


Set it Free

by TurnUps



Category: Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Abuse, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, and make a bigger deal than comic relief, its about the same level as the manga/show have, talking about abuse, touchstarved, touchstarved yuki, very background kyo/tohru, we're going to examine just how strange the fanclub girls actually are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25746463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurnUps/pseuds/TurnUps
Summary: The fanclub girls are annoying Machi about being on the student council. Kakeru has a plan to divert their attention. It's a fake dating AU.*“Well, I may have…” Manabe's cheeks flooded with colour, suddenly. And it made Yuki confused enough to forget how freezing cold with fury he was. “I may have already said – a few – some things.”There was a beat. A beat where Yuki’s brain had to catch up.It didn’t like what it arrived in.“You gave me a fake boyfriend?” His voice shook. His hands shook. He pressed them into fists in case Manabe was looking.His eyes were still on the ground. He hand scratching the hair at the back of his neck feverishly.“Your…relationship is fake,” he said, slowly. Painfully slowly. “But your boyfriend – your boyfriend is a real person.”
Relationships: Manabe Kakeru/Sohma Yuki
Comments: 87
Kudos: 310
Collections: Nice fics tbh, short and sweet





	1. 1

1

There was still a feeling of relief that came at the end of every student council meeting. It was like realising that the evenings were getting lighter in the Spring – like hearing the first chime of New Years. It was over. Yuki had survived.

And it was that relief that kept him going when things always dissolved into chaos. The light at the end of the tunnel – his only hope of making it through this year in one piece.

Which was why it was particularly painful that Kakeru Manabe was following him out of the school building.

He had tried to ignore him. Tried to pretend that they were simply going the same way, and Manabe was walking too close to him but that was fine, because he would be free. If he could just keep going – keep up this pace, he would be free. For at least twelve hours.

But then Manabe called his name, “Yuki!”

Yuki ignored him. Put his head down and walked faster. As if there was anyone else on the path Manabe could be speaking to. All of the clubs had gone home now – their meeting had overrun. There was only the two of them on the path.

Manabe patted Yuki’s shoulder as he caught up – jogging.

“Yuki,” he said, again. “I have an idea.”

“No.” Yuki kept his eyes on the path ahead of him.

“It's not about school council,” Manabe spoke as fast as he walked.

“The answer is still no.”

“So, you're telling me that your fan club girls don't bother you?”

“Not particularly.” That was true. Most of the time they were too flustered to speak to him, and the some of the time they were keeping girls away from him. They’d saved him from transforming a dozen times without knowing. When they weren’t doing either of those things, they were tolerable.

“Well they're bothering everyone else.” Manabe gave him a sideways glance, still smiling slightly. “Especially Machi.”

That made Yuki slow down. Just slightly, because he remembered the harassment Tohru got – that Tohru still got – because of him. Now, that was the part that bothered him.

“Miss Kuragi?” he repeated.

“She's on the student council.” Manabe shrugged. He slowed their pace even more, and Yuki had to follow if he wanted to hear. That irked him. “She spends so much time with you that they're starting to bug her. Kimi too, but she likes playing up to them.”

Yuki could only imagine Machi Kuragi being slightly irritated by those girls. She was like Uotani – she could hold her own.

But the thought of her getting into any trouble, because of him, was enough to concern him.

It was enough to make him glance at Manabe for the first time – his face was flushed.

“So what is your idea?” Yuki asked.

Manabe smirked. Put his hands in his pockets and looked up. “Oh, now you're interested.”

Yuki started walking faster. Said over his shoulder, “I don't have to be.”

Manabe caught up again, actually stood in front of Yuki and walked backwards to slow his pace down to a crawl. He glared.

“Okay – okay –” Manabe put his palms up. “Here it is...we get the pressure off of Machi by having you date someone.”

“No,” Yuki said it before he finished talking.

“I didn't say it had to be a real relationship.” Manabe was talking fast again.

“So.” Yuki paused. Let that word hang in the air so that Manabe could _feel_ the disapproval coming off of him. _Feel_ the cold anger that was starting to creep up Yuki’s fingertips. “Your solution to Miss _Kuragi’s_ problem is to get me to make up a relationship with some – pretend girl.”

“I didn't say it had to be a girl either.”

It turned Yuki’s blood to ice. He tried his best to scowl – the scowl that he knew would make Manabe back away – it made everyone else back away.

“No.”

The scowl was enough to stop Manabe in his tracks. Yuki stepped around him – onto the grass to as a shortcut. Anything to get him out of here more quickly.

The idea was – no. And he wasn’t going to waste any more time on it.

“Yuki!” Manabe was calling after him. He could hear footsteps in the long grass. “Yun-Yun, wait!"

He turned, then. Abruptly. So abruptly that Manabe almost crashed into him.

“Don't call me that.” His voice was low. The kind of voice that told even Kyo that it wasn’t time to talk to him. Would he be able to drop kick Manabe without anyone at school finding out? Would it be worth it? “I said no.”

Manabe had the common sense to step back. He looked at the ground between them, as if judging it a safe distance.

“Well, I may have…” His cheeks flooded with colour, suddenly. And it made Yuki confused enough to forget how freezing cold with fury he was. “I may have already said – a few – some things.”

There was a beat. A beat where Yuki’s brain had to catch up.

It didn’t like what it arrived in.

“You gave me a fake boyfriend?” His voice shook. His hands shook. He pressed them into fists in case Manabe was looking.

His eyes were still on the ground. He hand scratching the hair at the back of his neck feverishly.

“Your…relationship is fake,” he said, slowly. Painfully slowly. “But your boyfriend – your boyfriend is a real person.”

This couldn’t be happening. Yuki actually thought his soul left his body because instead of panic – instead of fury – he just felt completely numb.

“Was it Hatsu-Haru?”

“It’s not – it wasn’t – him.” Manabe glanced up. Back down.

“Who?”

“Don't be mad.” Manabe looked up properly then, tapping one fist against his palm like he was nervous.

Yuki still couldn’t feel a thing, but that didn’t matter. He kept the same, cold voice.

“Oh, I'm already mad.” He added a small smile. Just to really worry Manabe.

Manabe, who, with a shaking hand and a face the colour of a tomato, was pointing towards himself.

Ah, there was the anger. The white hot fury.

“Manabe Kakeru!”

“I –”

Yuki pressed forward. Charging through the grass, and Manabe stumbled backwards to avoid him.

“You're going to go into school tomorrow and tell those girls the truth –”

“Is that what you want?” Manabe looked panicked.

“Yes!”

“Are you sure?”

It made him pause. Manabe had that frustrating effect on him. He was still cringing, as though he was expecting a blow to the head.

“What?” He was still angry, he told himself – still ready to flip Manabe into the nearest tree.

“I - I mean.” Manabe straightened. Seeing an opportunity to redeem himself. “It's killing two birds with one stone, right - if they think you're –”

“I am _not_!"

Birds scattered into the air from the field around them at the shout. Disappeared into the cloudy sky as black dots.

“I'm not saying you are - but if they think –”

“I don't want them to!” He hoped that Manabe couldn’t hear the absolute panic that was seizing hold of his throat in a vice-like grip. It would be impressive if he did – Yuki had him by the collar – though he didn’t remember moving. “You _are_ going to tell them the truth.”

“All right.” Manabe raised his hands again. Tried smiling reassuringly, but it was wobbly. “All right.”

“Tomorrow.” Yuki’s voice was almost a growl.

“Ah, give a guy time to prepare –”

“You got yourself into this!” Yuki snapped. He forced his fingers to let Manabe go. Stayed face to face – his breath feeling like fire in his lungs. “Tomorrow.”

“Alriht. Tomorrow,” Manabe said. His mouth twisted again – trying for a smile, but not quite getting there. “See you, Yun-Yun.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Manabe was already walking away. Casually, as if there had been no argument, waving over his shoulder at Yuki. But his hand was shaking.

Yuki was shaking too – all over. A string of names for Manabe repeated themselves in his head, like a banner at the bottom of the news channel. A constant background of swearing and cussing whilst the still rational part of him said that it was fine. It would all be fixed tomorrow.

There was nothing to get so shaken up about because it was dealt with.

Tomorrow this would all go away.

And yet – it made a stone settle in his stomach as he continued the rest of the way home. Made his stomach knot around the stone. Made whispers and looks and memories claw at the edges of his mind, wanting attention.

Yuki pushed them away. Focused on the smell of the blossoms in the air. The fact that the clouds were parting and the sky was still so blue. Good weather for the garden.

Concentrate on the garden.

Stop thinking about Manabe.

Stop thinking about the way he glanced up at Yuki, all big brown eyes like a sad puppy. A puppy afraid of being kicked.

Of being told off by Yuki.

He slammed the door when he got in. There was a half-hearted yell from Shigure about it, that he ignored, slipping off his shoes, and planning to slope off to his bedroom.

Of course, Tohru was peering around the living room door. Of course, she had heard the commotion and had come out to see what had happened.

“Yuki, are you okay?” she asked. Big, puppy dog eyes. “You look a little...”

“You look pissed.” Kyo was sat at the kotatsu, leaning back with a raised eyebrow.

Perfect. He couldn’t be mean to Tohru – never in good conscience be mean to her.

But he could take his anger out on Kyo without feeling any guilt.

“I see your eyesight's as good as ever.”

Kyo scowled. “Piss off.”

“You started it.”

“So, what's wrong?” Tohru asked. Cutting through the snapping with her soft voice.

Yuki forced himself to take a breath. To calm down because there was no way he could snap at her like that. Tohru was just too – Tohru for that.

“It's nothing.” He even forced himself to smile.

She was still frowning at him; was getting better at reading when Yuki was putting it on.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Kyo muttered.

“Shut up.” He switched from anger to sweetness for Tohru. “Just…a trying day at student council.”

“Oh no.” And of course this was genuinely upsetting news to her. “Well, get some rest, okay? Dinner will be soon.”

His smile was more genuine this time. The thought of Tohru’s cooking – of coming home to cooking – was enough to take the edge off the panic and frustration.

“Sure.”

Then Yuki collapsed on his bed.

And tried his best to get his brain to switch off completely.

*

Yuki did not trust Kakeru Manabe. Didn’t trust him to tell the truth when he had already made such a mess of things already.

For the first time since – moving to Shigure’s, really, Yuki woke up early. He sat and stared out of his window at the morning sky. Peaches and pinks and pale yellows, like a fairy tale.

When he felt more like he was living in a nightmare.

It wasn’t that he had anything wrong with _being_ gay. That wasn’t it. It didn’t bother him – what people chose to do or not do was completely their business. If it didn’t hurt anyone and if no one was hurting them – because they shouldn’t hurt them, not just for being them – then he supported that.

But Yuki did not like boys. And for some reason that was very important to him. He did not like to think very hard what that reason was. He knew, deep down, exactly why the reasons he did not want anyone to think that of him. The reasons were uncomfortable.

And he felt uncomfortable having them – being supportive but not at the same time.

So he pushed them away. Tried to concentrate on the morning sky. Tried to concentrate on breakfast and walking to school and class, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t focus on anything but the need to see Manabe and have him tell Yuki that it was all over. A funny story to tell when they were adults.

He didn’t see Manabe until the end of school. When, exhausted from stress, he was making his way to the student council room. He was stood in front of a gaggle of girls – fan club girls, Yuki recognised them – his back to Yuki, scratching his neck erratically. The tips of his ears were red.

"W - well,” he heard Manabe say as he approached. He had to – he had to be there at student council. “You see, the thing is - I may have –”

Of course he'd wait until the end of the day to tell them. Probably just to make Yuki worry and panic about it for the whole day.

And obviously it meant that Yuki had to witness the whole thing. The very thing that he had been so desperate to avoid.

Now he was staring at Manabe, blushing and stammering and clearly not wanting to come clean. Ridiculous. The whole lie that he had started to spontaneously had been ridiculous. What in the world had he been thinking when he had said it in the first place?

Two things clicked together in Yuki’s mind. Two pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

The first was a girl's voice in the back of his mind. A voice that said, ‘a normal girl would never be good enough for you, would they Yuki?' The disdain in it that stung, even in a memory. Hurt worse because he couldn’t explain just why he couldn’t get close to those girls.

Well, Kakeru Manabe was normal. He was as normal as you could get.

The second was that they could hug. He could hug Manabe and he wouldn't transform. After all the times he had pushed someone away – all of the rumours going round about him – if he was seen hugging someone, being close to someone, then it would change.

He could put a stop to it all.

It was so simple.

So simple that it made his brain shut down. For five seconds. Five seconds was enough for him to walk down the hall and wrap his arms around Manabe's shoulders from behind. It was long enough for him to smile and rest his chin on Manabe, mouth right by his ear, and say, "what's wrong, Kakeru-kun?"

To his credit, Manabe didn't flinch. He just took a half-breath and put a hand on Yuki's arm. It was warm. All of Manabe felt stifling hot.

"Nothing, now that you're here, honey." It barely took him a moment to reply.

There was a stunned silence. Yuki didn't trust himself to look at the fanclub girls – he kept his gaze over their shoulders. He was sure that their jaws had dropped to the floor.

The pet name threatened to make him gag. But he forced himself to smile, instead, even as he untangled himself from Manabe.

"We'll be late for student council," he said. This wasn’t him – this was Prince Yuki’s smile and Prince Yuki’s soft, kind voice.

Manabe had a smirk at the corner of his mouth. His fingers nudged Yuki’s, but he didn’t quite take hold.

"Of course.” The smirk took over his face, even as he turned to the fan club girls. “If you'll excuse us, ladies."

He let Yuki go first into the room, closing the door behind them.

Even as he did, there was a large amount of squealing and screeching from outside.

That was the moment that Yuki’s brain slammed back awake. And he realised. What he had done.

He would never be able to leave this room.

How could he have let that happen? There was no going back now.

All this time he’d been worried about Manabe, when he should have been worrying about himself.

“What was all that about?” Naohito asked, a usual frown in place. Only annoyed that there was something he didn’t know than what it was.

Manabe glanced at Yuki. A smirk turned the corner of his mouth as he replied, “nothing out of the ordinary.”

Relief filled Yuki’s chest. He breathed a sigh of relief, then stepped forward, sat down –

And began the student council meeting. He was painfully aware of Manabe staring at him every few seconds. He’d gone along with it, but he’d definitely be confused about the change of heart. Definitely have burning questions.

So was Yuki. His hands shook under the table so he balled them into fists, trying desperately to focus on the itinerary they had planned. But his brain was on the wall of girls outside and he had to ask everyone to repeat what they were saying. Could barely keep his own sentences focused.

It was Machi who picked up most of the topics. Who pressed for answers, wrote things down and made a plan of action. She saved the meeting, looking bored the whole time. Yuki kept nodding at her gratefully, and she dipped her head in return.

Yuki was the first one out. He made a quick excuse, grabbed his bag, and fled.

Of course, Manabe was right behind him. It was as if he had waited five seconds, before following Yuki, just to make sure that no one was suspicious.

He fell into step with him, as he headed through the corridors. Back out into the humid air – it was still hot, even though it was September.

There were a few scraggling fanclub girls outside. They kept their distance, though they giggled and swooned when they spotted Yuki walking with Manabe.

He gritted his jaw so tightly that it begun to ache.

When they were out of the school gates, on the same path that they had walked on yesterday, Manabe drew a deep breath in next to Yuki.

“So…” he said. “I was all set to put the record straight, and…” he waited a few moments, as if he was expecting Yuki to cut him off. “What made you change your mind?”

Yuki wondered how he could explain – if he would ever be able to find the words to explain. That Yuki Sohma couldn’t remember the last time _he_ had chosen to hug someone. And that Manabe had been there and he hadn’t been able to resist wrapping his arms around someone without the fear and guilt that came from transforming into a rat in front of them.

He wondered if there was a way to phrase that which meant he didn’t sound like a crazy person.

He wondered if he could explain about his childhood. But that was all linked to the Zodiac, interwoven like two threads making up a basket. He couldn’t explain any of it without prefacing it with how Akito was in the zodiac. Why he had to be listened to.

“Are we going with this?” Manabe pressed.

Yuki stopped. He had to. It suddenly felt as though the world was spinning and if he took another step, then he would fall right off of it.

“If we do this - if I do this,” he said. Already feeling as though he was stepping off the earth. “I have to know if you're - if you're...”

He stumbled over the word. It hung there, like an omen. And he shouldn’t have been scared to say it because there was nothing wrong with it, but he couldn’t make the sound come out.

“Gay,” Manabe finished.

“Are you?”

There was a pause. A horrible, gaping pause. Then Manabe said, "No."

“Okay.”

They continued walking. Slowly. Aware of this thing that they had agreed to that sat heavily across their shoulders. A shared load.

As if Yuki didn’t have enough on his plate.

“You know, I'm giving up my reputation with the ladies for you, Prince.” Manabe waggled a finger in front of him – further away than usual, as if Yuki would bite him.

Maybe he would hug him again.

“No one asked you to,” he snapped.

“No,” Manabe agreed. “But this _is_ all for Machi.”

Yuki narrowed his eyes – tried to be threatening again. “Is it?”

“Oh, come on? You think I –” Manabe rain his hands through his hair, so that it stuck up in clumps. “If I _wanted_ to date you, I would have asked you out.”

“I would have said no. And then you would have come up with some – scheme –”

“You know me so well, don't you?” Now it was Manabe’s turn to narrow his eyes. He wasn’t intimidating. In the slightest. It was like a puppy trying to growl.

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

Manabe stopped in the path. Turned to Yuki. And were they standing close together? He couldn’t tell. It felt as though they were face to face, but he knew they weren’t.

What made him turn too was the serious expression on Manabe’s face. He’d never seen him so earnest.

“I don't fancy you.”

Well, Yuki could be serious too. “You're sure?”

“Look. I'm stupid. You know I'm stupid.” Manabe’s hands moved as he spoke. Splayed fingers, as though he was hitting a keyboard erratically. There was something mesmerising about it. “It slipped out and I had the decency to tell you - to ask you to roll with it - for Machi's sake - _you're_ the one who did - _that_ \- out there. _You're_ the one who kept up the lie. Maybe I should be asking if _you_ fancy me.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Why was Yuki ducking his head? Why did it feel like he was blushing?

“Then why are we doing this?!” Manabe’s voice cracked. His hands flew through the air, again.

“To keep the fanclub girls away from Machi,” Yuki snapped. Still feeling unpleasantly warm.

“For Machi.” Manabe agreed. He was breathing heavily, as though he’d just ran a race. “So that's settled.”

“It’s settled.” Yuki was also breathing heavily.

Manabe nodded. So Yuki nodded.

They both started walking in the same direction. The silence provided a gaping maw between them. Made Yuki all too aware of just what had happened today.

“How did this even start?” he asked. Directed his anger at Manabe, because it was easier than being angry at himself.

“I…” Manabe didn’t look at him. In fact, his cheeks had gone crimson. “They really were annoying Machi, I swear. They had cornered her before class, and they were going on and on about how you and her – I don’t know – _breathed_ in the same room. Something about their rules, and they were calling her a witch. And then one of them pushed her and I-“ Manabe pushed his bangs back, took a deep breath in. “I couldn’t let them do that.”

“So you told them we were dating?” Yuki kept as much scorn as he could in his voice, but he understood. He turned a blind eye to the fan club most of the time – there were bigger things to worry about, and he hoped it would make them stop – but he knew the way they treated Tohru – treated any girl he talked to. If he had seen it, he would have stepped in too.

At least, he would have wanted to. Would have wanted the guts too.

“I don’t know why that came out!” Manabe raised his hands, palms up. “I swear, I just – I opened my mouth and something possessed me to say that if they were going to pick on anyone, pick on me, because I was the one you were actually with.”

Yuki stared at him. Frowned and just took that in.

“You’ll never cease to amaze me, Manabe.” He turned away.

“Thank you, honey,” Manabe called after him.

Yuki ignored him. Walked faster. Imagined that with every step – every crunch of gravel under his shoes – would erase some of the day. Would let him rewind time and start the day again. Do everything right this time.

Because Manabe may have started this nightmare, but Yuki had continued it.


	2. Chapter Two

2

There was trouble the very next day.

He was lucky, he supposed, that they’d managed to change their shoes without a fuss. It was only when they were crossing to the main school building, via the outside path, that the barrage of questions began.

“Prince Yuki, is it true?”

“Prince Yuki, are you really dating Manabe Kakeru?”

“Prince Yuki, you’re not really gay, are you?”

Prince Yuki, Prince Yuki, Prince Yuki – his eyes adjusted and he found that there were only three of them – the same three that usually ganged up on Tohru.

Of course, there were those three, and then everyone else in the hallway watching with eager eyes and pricked ears.

“What’s this all about?” Kyo asked. He stared at the girls, as though the noise they were making was offending him personally.

Tohru was watching him. With those huge brown eyes of hers. No doubt putting two and two together about why Yuki had come home in a bad mood the other day, and now this.

He swallowed. It was too late to back out now. They had already agreed.

This was for Machi. Quiet, strange Machi.

“Yes, I am dating Manabe Kakeru.” His voice was quiet and he almost choked on the words. He knew that he had the same tone as if he was admitting to a murder.

There was a stunned silence for a moment, before the sounds began again. Insistent, like an alarm clock that wouldn’t stop ringing –

If only. If only he could reach out and hit snooze and wake up from all of this.

“For how long?”

“No, that can’t be true!”

“But you don’t like boys! We’d know if you liked boys!”

“Prince Yuki, say it isn’t so!”

“Oy!” Finally, another voice cut through the prattle that churned his stomach. There was his saviour, Uotani, walking in with her blonde hair flowing behind her like a war banner. She had a steel pipe in one hand, was resting it across her shoulders like it was a sword. “I thought I’d told you to leave Tohru alone.”

“No, Uo-chan, they’re not bothering _me_ ,” Tohru said, quickly. She’d noticed the steel pipe too, and waved her hands as though she could erase it from existence.

“Huh?” Uotani blinked at her.

Yuki looked away. Looked at the other side of the school and clenched his fists so tightly that he could feel his nails pressing into his palms.

“You see, it’s –”

“We just wanted to know the truth about the rumours,” one of the girls said. It was an entitled, stand-offish tone.

“We didn’t think there was any way that Prince Yuki would be dating someone like Manabe Kakeru.”

Uotani blinked again. She was thrown off of her rhythm now.

“Manabe?” she echoed. Yuki felt her eyes search him. “But isn’t he –”

“Exactly! Everyone knows that Prince Yuki isn’t –”

“So what if he is?” Uotani was back. Yuki glanced at her to see her scowling at the fan club. “It ain’t any of your business, and it ain’t a problem.” She paused, letting her pale eyes penetrate each of the fanclub girl’s in turn. “Unless you got an issue with boys dating each other?”

There was a threat in her voice. A threat in the way her fingers clenched on the pipe.

“No – no issue!” another of the girls squeaked.

“Because if there was…” That was a quieter voice. A voice that appeared from next to Uotani, as if summoned to Tohru’s side. Hanajima stared with blank eyes at the girls, her fingers laced together in front of her. “Then they say electric shocks change that mindset.”

“Hana – Uo!” Tohru looked between the two of them – looking pained. As if she wasn’t sure whether to stop them or applaud them, and as if she wasn’t sure who to unleash or stop first.

It was enough to tweak at the corner of Yuki’s mouth.

The girls were shaking their heads. They were suddenly bug-eyed and pale, and most of the time Yuki felt a little bit bad that they were being teased so mercilessly, but today he only felt relief through everyone of his bones. They mumbled something, bowed, and scuttled off together like a crab.

Yuki closed his eyes and took a breath. He could feel all of them watching him. All of them waiting for some kind of explanation. Could practically hear the cogs turning in Kyo’s head as he figured it all out and found some way to insult him.

Not if he got there first. “Go on, say it, stupid.”

He opened his eyes to glare at Kyo –

Who frowned back at him, “what?”

“I know you’re working hard on some quip, so just come out with it.”

Kyo raised an eyebrow. “You really think I care? I’m more pissed off that your little fan club appear everywhere we go. Don’t they have lives?”

“No, they do not,” Hanajima said, solemnly.

“Thank you,” Yuki said. Earnestly. “For getting rid of them, I mean.”

Utoani shrugged. “What are friends for?”

Friends. They were his friends. He’d thought of them as his friends, but there was something so gratifying about hearing it said aloud. As though he had been declared sane. It made a warm feeling buzz in his chest.

They managed to continue walking. Tohru tactfully turned the conversation to last night’s dinner – to what people planned to eat this week, and had anyone caught that cooking show last night? It had given her “loads of ideas.

It still felt like there was something unsaid. That Yuki would still have to explain himself sooner or later, and they were all just waiting for him to be ready. All trying so hard to be respectful and accepting.

And, he supposed, it shouldn’t be so hard for Tohru. If she could accept that he turned into a rat, then she could accept him dating a boy. (Pretending to date. They were pretending. For Machi.) She shouldn’t have accepted that.

Akito had told him no one would accept that.

So why was it so hard to believe that people wouldn’t respect this?

In fact, they made it as far as the main corridor, before the next piece of trouble occurred. This trouble came with ordinary brown hair, ordinary brown eyes. There were girls following him too, all but primed with pencil and paper to write down his every word.

When he spotted Yuki in the corridor, he waved.

It felt as though his friend’s heads swivelled right round to see his reaction.

He had no choice. He waved back. Tried for a small smile, but it felt physically painful.

And then Manabe was walking towards him, gently nudging people out of the way so that he could get there faster. Machi waited behind him, her face unreadable.

“Yun-Yun.” Manabe grinned as though nothing was wrong, closing the gap between them more and more with every second.

And then his arms were around Yuki.

Both arms.

Around his shoulders.

And his very first instinct was to push Manabe. Was to push him away. Or to flip him over his shoulder. Flip him onto his back.

To get him away.

But then the animalistic panic – the moment of absolute dread and terror – passed. Because Manabe was a boy. And he was hugging Yuki. And Yuki wasn’t transforming.

It was the same realisation he’d had yesterday. He could hug Manabe and he wouldn’t transform.

Yuki was sure that his arms were shaking as he raised them, put them gingerly around Manabe’s back. His face was pressed against Manabe’s shoulder – he couldn’t see anything but white school shirt. Couldn’t smell anything other than Manabe’s aftershave. Generic boy scent.

His heart was racing.

And it shouldn’t be, but it was – because Yuki had realised that he didn’t really know how to hug someone.

That was pathetic.

“It’s good to see you.” Manabe pulled away, without warning, his hands still on Yuki’s shoulders.

His own arms were still outstretched, and he felt his cheeks warm. “You too.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. That worried him – but that had been nice. That had been worth the panic and nerves beforehand. What was the world coming to when a hug from Kakeru Manabe comforted him?

“Yun-Yun, huh?” There was a glint in Uotani’s eye.

“Don’t even think about it!” he snapped.

She laughed. That belly laugh that filled any space that she was in. “Okay – okay – don’t want to summon the wrath of the Prince.”

“I think it’s cute,” Tohru said. She smiled at Yuki and he knew there was more to it. Knew that she could tell how much that meant – that this meant.

“So.” Uotani tapped her fingers on the pipe again. “ _You’re_ the one who’s stolen our Yuki’s heart.”

“I – I wouldn’t say that,” Yuki muttered.

He was ignored. Manabe spoke over him, grinning and playing along with Uotani’s teasing.

They were both teasing him, really, but he could barely focus on the words. He let them wash over him, as the whole group continued onto class. In his mind, he was still in the hug. Was still being held securely by arms that were stiflingly warm.

He fell behind, without meaning to.

And found himself next to Hanajima. Which was fine. He quite liked her. There was something calming about her presence, and he appreciated her silence. She was a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

“Your waves have been fluctuating this morning,” she told him, but didn’t look at him. Kept looking forward.

“I suspected that,” Yuki admitted. He wondered just how much she could pick up on – if she could tell that it was all fake.

Hanajima kept her silence for a few moments more. Then those impossibly dark eyes turned to him. The corner of her thin lips quirked upwards.

“Take care of yourself, Sohma-kun.”

And what could he do but nod?

It wasn’t worth saying that taking care of himself was much easier said than done.

*

Manabe found him at lunch. Was surprisingly discreet about it.

He came behind Yuki, unbeknown to the rest of the group, and got his attention by nudging his elbow against Yuki’s.

“Can we talk?” His voice was low.

Yuki nodded. A serious Manabe worried him.

And, yes. He needed to talk. Needed to talk to the one person that understood everything.

“Student council room? Five minutes?”

Again, he nodded. Counted to ten as Manabe walked away, then caught Tohru’s arm and told her that he’d catch up with them. That he had to do something with the student council.

And of course, like the angel she was, Tohru nodded and smiled and said that was fine.

Then Yuki practically ran to the student council room. It felt suffocating – even in class, when they couldn’t all talk, it felt suffocating. This newfound information sat in the air as heavy as a fog and he couldn’t acknowledge it. People were watching him – everyone seemed to be watching his every move.

He slipped into the student council room, barely opening the door to squeeze through it.

Manabe was already sat cross-legged on the floor. He had a can of pop in front of him and was tapping his finger on the side of it.

“I didn’t want to bother with tea,” he said. And something about him seemed different – he seemed paler than usual.

Yuki sat. At the head of the table, where he usually sat. And immediately thought that he should have sat opposite, because Manabe was sat in his usual seat too and now they were next to each other, on the corner. And it was awkward.

Everything was awkward now.

“What did you want to talk about?” Yuki asked.

"What are the rules?" Manabe was abrupt. When Yuki just blinked at him, he continued. "We need rules, if we're going to do this."

"Don't talk to me outside of school," Yuki said, immediately. "Don't –”

"Kiss me." Manabe's face was serious. "I've never been kissed and I don't want my first kiss to be with you."

"The feelings mutual."

“Was the hugging okay?” Manabe pressed. His finger tapped on the can again, and Yuki had to swallow the urge to yell at him. “I mean, I’ve heard that you don’t like that kind of thing.”

“It’s fine,” Yuki said. “I mean, I generally don’t –”

This morning had shown him that he didn’t really know how to feel about ‘that kind of thing.’

“What’s the problem?” Manabe tilted his head to one side. He was smiling again, and that was infuriating. He moved fast – and Yuki should have been able to avoid him, but he didn’t – in the next moment he had his arms around Yuki, pressing them together again. “Didn’t your parents show you enough affection as a kid?”

Yuki didn’t reply. He’d been about to push himself away and scowl at Manabe – throw in a retort – but instead he froze. Completely. Couldn’t even breathe.

Mercifully, Manabe pulled away. Seemed to notice something was wrong, and when he saw the look on Yuki’s face, he bit his lip.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean –”

“Don’t.” Yuki had meant to say, ‘don’t worry about it.’ But he just stopped.

There was a moment where they both took a deep breath.

“What about lunch? Should we sit together?” Manabe asked.

“Absolutely not.”

“Sohma.” Manabe smiled, like he was dealing with a difficult child. “If this is going to work, we have to actually spend time with each other.”

“I know, but –” Yuki clenched his fists, as though that would give him the answer. “It’s made everyone…different.”

“Ah,” Manabe scratched his ear, his gaze on the ceiling. “You see, everyone already suspected I was… ‘bi, at least,’ were the words they used, so – no changes.”

Yuki paused. He rested an elbow on the table. Rested his forehead in his hand, and stared at the patterns in the wood.

“You said you weren’t gay.”

“Being bisexual isn’t the same as being gay. Gay is an umbrella term, really.” Manabe paused. “And even if I was bisexual, would it bother you that much?”

“It wouldn’t, under different circumstances.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s much more insulting for me – to have you so declare that we would never date because you’re straight as an arrow.”

Yuki looked up then, and he felt his face grow warm. “It’s not like that!”

“What is it like, then?”

Yuki was not attracted to Manabe – he told himself that – and he wasn’t really bothered about insulting him either. He was probably the only person outside of the Sohma family that he didn’t care about insulting.

And yet – he couldn’t explain all of the reasons. Couldn’t explain why he still felt a twinge of guilt at that.

All he could do was huff, and look back at the table.

Manabe gave a strange, strangled chuckle. “It’s not a big deal – what everyone thinks. I mean, it’s not like you were after any girls, were you?”

No, he wasn’t. But that shouldn’t matter.

“It’s the – the principle of the thing.”

Manabe let that sit. “We can just break up. A nice, messy break up for everyone to see –”

“No.”

There were two reasons he said it. One was honourable – was because he was sick of letting those girls bully and pester people he cared about. He hadn’t done anything for Tohru, but he could do something for Machi.

The second was selfish. And embarrassing.

But he needed an excuse to hug someone and not turn into a rat. Someone who wasn’t a Sohma.

He turned his head in his hand to see Manabe raise his palms. “Then we need your fan-club to buy that we’re a couple. And that means _talking_ to each other.”

“We have student council.”

“You’re being difficult.” Manabe crossed his arms.

Yuki scowled. “Fine. Lunch. One day with my friends, and one day with yours. You do have friends, don’t you?”

Manabe put a hand to his chest, faking pain. “That hurts, _Prince_ Yuki.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sure, Yun-yun.” He smirked, eyes glittering. Yuki narrowed his eyes. Tried to do the look that sent daggers at Kyo. “But, you know, you can’t go around calling me Manabe.”

“Should I call you honey?” He was teasing now, letting his mouth twitch up at the side.

But to his surprise, Manabe looked away. He cleared his throat. “Kakeru is fine.”

Not if he could avoid saying Manabe’s name at all. “Alright.”

So it was agreed. They nodded, and Manabe left the room first. Yuki stayed there, waiting for his heart to stop pounding so heavily. There was still a part of him that refused to believe this was happening – that this was what he had agreed to, and was still agreeing too.

His legs ached as he stood, as though he ran a marathon. It felt like a huge effort to open the door of the room, and get ready to go back to lunch. To go back to friends and come up with an excuse as to why he had been missing.

Yuki sighed.

And suddenly found himself face to face with Hatsu-Haru. It was still annoying that he was so much taller than Yuki when he was still a year younger. He blocked the way effectively, his hands in his pockets to make his shoulders even wider.

“H-Haru.” He was still flustered. Still trying to catch his breath.

“Yuki.” Hatsu-Haru was frowning. “What's going on?”

His meaning was clear. It was clear from the concerned look in his eye, because Hatsu-Haru knew Yuki. And that meant he knew that something had to be very wrong for this to happen.

But it wasn’t. Not as wrong as it could be.

And yet, he couldn’t explain the truth. Not if they wanted to keep it a complete secret. It had to be, didn’t it?

After all, there was no telling what Black Haru would say if he was angry.

Yuki stepped to the side.

“I'm going to be late,” he said.

Hatsu-Haru caught his shoulder, just to keep him in place. There was a flash on anger over his face.

“You told me –”

“I know.”

He knew that Hatsu-Haru wasn’t kidding when he said he loved Yuki. And Yuki hadn’t felt the same way.

“So, why –”

“Haru.” Yuki put a hand over Hatsu-Haru’s, with enough force to push him off if he still refused to let go. “I can't talk about this right now –”

“Are you being blackmailed?” Hatsu-Haru spoke quickly, anger and old hurt giving way to concern. He leant over Yuki, as though he could shield him from everything.

He turned away. Felt his heart pounding against his rib cage.

It took him too long to say it. Way too long just to tell the absolute truth of, “no.”

He had done this to himself. Yuki pushed away from Hatsu-Haru, starting to head back down the hallway.

Hatsu-Haru caught his wrist. Kept a tighter grip.

“Yuki,” he said. A knight ready to spring into action.

“I have to go.” He tried to tug his wrist away.

Hatsu-Haru hung on more tightly. His voice softened and when Yuki looked back, he saw that his brown eyes were gentle as well.

“We don't have secrets,” he murmured.

“I'll-“ Yuki’s fist clenched and unclenched in Hatsu-Haru’s grip, as though it was trying to explain for him. He wet his mouth. “I'll find the words to explain soon.”

Hatsu-Haru’s grip loosened.

“I’m fine, Haru,” he said, watching him closely for any signs of anger. Sometimes talking to Haru was like fighting a bull. “I promise.”

“You tell me if you –”

“I will.”

Hatsu-Haru released him. Yuki tried for a smile. It flashed across his face for the briefest moment, before he had to turn away.

This really was becoming a tangled string of lies.

*

Yuki met Tohru from her job that evening. And there was an immense amount of relief that went through him when Momiji ran out to greet him, had a whole conversation with him, and didn’t once mention school or Yuki’s apparent relationship.

It felt almost like normal.

And Tohru was normal too. Smiling at him and letting him carry her bag home for him. He asked her about work, and she replied too optimistically for anyone who had put in such a hard shift. There was a part of him that was desperate to ask her – was this what she wanted? Didn’t she have a dream job? With her empathy, her insight – her general demeanour, he wanted to tell her that she would make a brilliant teacher. Did she really want to stay in this ordinary job when she was so extra-ordinary?

“Do you…enjoy your job, Miss Honda?” Was what he asked instead.

“Of course!” Tohru smiled at him, because that was what she almost always did. “It’s really they perfect job for me – cleaning seems to be the only thing that I’m good at.”

“That’s not true.” There was force behind Yuki’s force. It was becoming harder and harder to control his emotions so finitely around her. “You’re –“

“An excellent cook?” Tohru tilted her head to the side, and amber light pooled onto her dark hair.

“A brilliant therapist,” Yuki corrected.

Tohru laughed. She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking back to the pavement. It was a warm night and the air felt fresh on his Yuki’s cheeks. The sun had set, but the night hadn’t quite settled in. It left the sky a dull mauve with no stars in sight.

“I’m being honest,” Yuki continued.

“I…enjoy cleaning,” Tohru explained. “It’s relaxing, and there’s nothing like the feeling you get after finishing a big job.”

Yuki couldn’t imagine that. Cleaning was a nuisance and he couldn’t be bothered with it. He fell silent, staring at the streetlights illuminating orange rings on the dark ground. They passed houses with lights on in the windows and he loved when the city was like this – had always loved it, because those houses looked cosy. They looked like warm dinners with a family, of sitting and laughing together, of being safe inside from the outside world.

And yet being on the outside of that – braving the dark and seeing the beauty in the way the darkness draped everything with peaceful grace – that was a feeling that didn’t have a word but one that he was content to nurture.

“Yuki-kun.” Tohru spoke slowly, as if she was considering the words carefully. “About school…”

He sighed. Because everything had been normal and it was like a punch in the gut to be reminded of that, when he had just gotten it out of his head.

“I'm sorry,” Tohru said it as though automatically. “I just – was it anything we said? Or did? You seemed…sad, today.”

“No Miss Honda.” He smiled, but it was his usual polite smile. “It was nothing you did…I just…” Am lying. “I wasn’t ready for all of this to happen so suddenly.”

They continued for a few steps in silence. A car passed, basking them in white light for just a few moments.

“Can I say I'm happy for you?” Tohru sounded almost nervous.

Yuki looked at her, tilting his head to the side as though that would shed more light on her words.

“I'm happy.” Tohru said, so softly it was difficult to hear her over the retreating car. “I’m happy, because you found someone you like, and who likes you back and – and – Manabe-san won’t transform when you hug him so it must be – must be really nice.”

She understood. She understood some of it, at least. And she seemed to glow, like the moon as she smiled at him.

“I suppose it is,” Yuki replied.

It should have made him feel better. Instead, it made his stomach feel even worse.

He had lied to be selfish. Because he had wanted to hug someone – someone who did not have the last name Sohma. And regardless of how started it, he had kept it going because of that. He’d had a turn in turning Manabe’s life upside down.

So how could he keep complaining when it had been his selfishness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): The Yukeru content will pick up next week, (hint: bike) but I had Haru/Tohru's conversations written down already and I preferred them here.  
> Thank you so so much for the support on this fic - the Fruits Basket community is always so nice to write for! I really do appreciate it!! Please do leave any thoughts this time as well <3   
> And I will update same time next week! xxx


	3. 3

3

Yuki had barely slept. He had been too busy trying to keep his thoughts anywhere other than Kakeru Manabe. That only left wondering what exactly all these emotions were in his stomach. He hadn’t been able to figure them out all morning – instead, he was irritable and restless. Like a caged animal.

Kyo received a roundhouse kick in the kitchen, for little more than muttering about Yuki looking more dazed than usual that morning. Maybe he felt slightly guilty at that – that he had put a little _too_ much power into that kick. But he couldn’t apologize.

And even if he could, Kyo would probably think it was a trick.

Tohru asked if he was okay, because she always noticed when he was quiet and unfocused. He forced himself to nod and put a small smile on his face. To say he was fine, thank you, he just had a lot to think about.

“Student council?” Tohru asked.

Why not? “Sure.”

“Maybe Ayame-san has some advice for you.” Now Tohru _was_ teasing, he could tell by the smile at the edge of her mouth. She was trying to make him laugh at the idea.

And he almost did. Felt his eyes soften as he looked at her.

“I’ll pass, thank you,” he replied.

Tohru paused. She looked over him, worry still etched into her expression. “And if anyone – says or does anything today – then Kyo-kun will teach them a lesson.”

Yuki blinked – it was the most violent he’d ever heard her talk.

Kyo was blinking too. He turned to frown down at her.

“What?” He snapped. “Don’t drag me into something that’s none of my business.”

“Of course it’s your business,” Tohru said. “Yuki-kun is your friend.”

Yuki scoffed and rolled his eyes, mostly on reflex at the idea.

Kyo did what Kyo always did, and began shouting. “He is _not_ my friend!”

“Then why do you walk to school with him?” Tohru asked, ducking her chin and looking up at him. Yuki knew that smile – it was a disarming smile, all the more so because she didn’t realise the power it had on other people.

“Because –” Kyo frowned at her. Then turned back to face the path, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and walking faster so that they couldn’t see his expression. “What do you want me to do? What for you to leave then walk ten paces behind you? And even if I did, you’d be running behind to check on me every two seconds and maybe I –” He broke off from that sentence, trying another tactic. “That rat’s just who I have to put up with if I’m walking to school with you.”

However he tried to word it, Kyo was telling Tohru that he liked walking with her. Yuki wasn’t sure if she completely realised it; she was grinning and her cheeks were dusted with colour. But that was how Tohru was.

She took Yuki’s hand, her fingers soft, and led him onwards enough so that she could take Kyo’s too. Opened her mouth, probably to say how much she loved walking to school together, but the words didn’t come out. Maybe she didn’t need to say them.

Kyo glanced at Yuki. Yuki looked away. They hadn’t spoken about anything that was happening – why would they? – and it felt like crossing a canyon with an umbrella. Well, Yuki would be firmly staying put on his side. This wasn’t something they needed to discuss.

They arrived outside of the school just as Manabe and Kuragi did – as though it was timed. If only they’d left the house two minutes later – just two minutes – they could have avoided it. He wouldn’t have had to see him until lunch.

But now they were trapped, looking each other straight in the eye. And Manabe was grinning like this was easy and stepping forward to greet Yuki.

He hugged him again, and again it took a moment for Yuki to remember what to do with his arms. And when he did, he wasn’t sure if he was holding Manabe too tight – if his palms were pressed too tightly into his back.

When was he supposed to pull away?

He had counted to three when he decided to, and even then he seemed caught and tangled up in Manabe still. Manabe seemed to be looking everywhere but Yuki, and he only knew that because he just _had_ to see his reaction when they were apart.

“Morning,” Manabe finally said, an uneasy grin settling on his face.

“Good morning,” Yuki replied, and finally found somewhere that wasn’t painful to put his eyes. “Good morning, Miss Kuragi.”

She nodded at him, then looked to Manabe, “it’s so hot out here, let’s get inside.”

“Sure.” Manabe sounded easy going now. There was no hesitation as he looped his fingers into Yuki’s.

He froze for a moment – this wasn’t what they agreed yesterday – but was it more than hugging? It probably seemed like less. Either way, they walked into the building as the contact seemed to burn through Yuki. Manabe hadn’t quite lined up their hands right, and his little finger was pressed against his ring finger, but it was too late to rearrange it.

Manabe was talking to Machi about some show on t.v the previous night. Yuki had only vaguely heard of it, but he tried to look interested. Tohru and Kyo had lagged behind – accosted by the boys in their class – and he didn’t want to be left completely alone.

“What kind of shows do you watch, Yun-Yun?” Manabe asked, suddenly, turning the full weight of his brown eyes onto Yuki. It made him feel panicked – both of them were looking at him, and he felt like a butterfly pinned underneath glass.

“Oh – I don’t – I don’t watch a lot of television,” Yuki said.

Manabe seemed flabbergasted at the idea. “What do you do instead?”

“Study, I guess.” He thought of the long hours he spent just sat at his vegetable garden. No, he couldn’t talk about that – ever. Let them think he was the ever so studious Prince and nothing more. They didn’t need to be friends because of this mess.

“Well, we have to remedy that.” Manabe swung their joined hands. Yuki’s arm felt stiff against him.

“Kakeru,” Machi said. “Not everyone wants to watch shows like yours.”

“There is nothing wrong with shounen.” Manabe caught the face Yuki was making and his eyes widened from tea-cup size to saucer size. “You don’t like _shounen?_ ”

“It’s just…” Yuki searched for a word he could say without being truthful. Something that wouldn’t offend him.

“Cheesy and ridiculous?” Machi suggested.

Yuki could have hugged _her_. (Unfortunately, she was the one here that he _couldn’t_ hug.) He nodded.

“Oh, honey.” Manabe swung their hands again. If the pet name had sent Yuki’s stomach swooping upwards, the movement sent it back down in a death drop. “We’re going to have to correct your tastes.”

“Please don’t.”

He was painfully aware of eyes on them. Fan club girls seemed to be watching them like hawks, muttering behind their hands. They usually did murmur when Yuki walked past, but somehow he’d always been able to ignore it.

“You could always learn to study, instead,” Machi said. She looked straight forward, barely paying attention to them at all.

“She has a good point,” Yuki said.

“What?” Manabe tugged him to a stop, pouting at him. “Yuki, you’re meant to be on my side.”

He blinked. “Am I?”

“It’s one of the rules of being in a relationship,” Manabe said, smirking. “You _have_ to be on my side, no matter what.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. He found himself smirking back – buying into this.

“Oh, really?” he asked. “How many of these relationship rules are there?”

“Many,” Manabe replied. “I’ll write them all down for you, don’t worry.”

“And when can I expect to see them?” Yuki stepped forward.

Manabe’s smile turned back into a pout as he took in Yuki’s expression. “You’re laughing at me!”

“Of course I am.” Was he actually smiling? Why?

“That’s against the rules too.” But Manabe looked as though he was fighting back a smile, even as he pouted.

“Not until I get them in writing.” Yuki turned, continuing down the path towards the school.

Manabe turned to Machi, who was watching both of them with an unreadable expression.

“He’s being mean to me, Machi!” Manabe cried, tugging her arm.

She pulled away, and Yuki saw her mouth quirk upwards, just slightly.

“Good,” Machi Kuragi said. “You decided you were going to date him without saying a word.”

Yuki felt a twinge of guilt in his gut at that. He wondered how Manabe had managed to explain this to her – whether he would tell her the truth – but it appeared he hadn’t bothered. And he couldn’t imagine Machi being the kind of person to forgive that.

Maybe he should step in, try to explain to her why neither of them had said anything.

He didn’t have time to think – in the next moment a girl was stepping out in front of them. No, three girls – three girls Yuki recognised, and felt a headache start between his eyes almost immediately. They stopped, Manabe and Machi falling into line next to him.

“We have a list of rules for this,” the lead girl said, with her hands on her hips.

From the corner of his eye, Yuki saw Machi slip quietly away from them, into the throng of people hurrying into school before they were late. The girls in front of them continued to talk and he tried hard to look as though he was listening, but his mind wandered. This had all started because he hadn’t wanted them to bother Machi, or Tohru. But now that Yuki thought about it, he wanted to be able to talk to anyone he wanted. He wanted the freedom of not having to think about who he smiled at or stopped to talk to – maybe Manabe was the solution. Maybe doing this was for any girl.

Besides, anger was starting to boil in his chest. This – the rules – had been something of a blessing when he’d first come to school. They had kept girls away from him. Which, he supposed, was still important – very important – but something that he could handle. That he needed to do on his own.

Yuki opened his mouth to – to try and explain any of that, but Manabe cut across him.

“Oh, thanks, but we don’t want to put any rules on our relationship,” he said, talking quickly and slipping his arm through Yuki’s as though it was nothing. “Right?”

Yuki blinked, pulled from his own thoughts.

Then he forced himself to smile. As sweetly as he could. “Right.”

“O-oh.” The fanclub girls looked at each other, then stepped away.

Manabe seemed to have a self-righteous grin on his face as they started walking again. Yuki glanced down, letting his hair fall in front of his face because everyone was looking and he couldn’t stand this. He hated it normally and now it was even worse.

“Shall I walk you to your home room?” Manabe asked Yuki, loud enough for the fanclub girls to still here. Still smiling. A goofy smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges.

So Yuki smiled back, because now it felt like a competition.

“Thank you,” he said. “But I don’t want you going out of your way. Only walk as far as you need.”

They were there, smiling at each other and walking arm in arm and Yuki felt like an absolute fool for doing it. But he wouldn’t be bested by Manabe. So they continued, and Yuki kept his arm where it was, even though the constant staring made his cheeks burn. Made his stomach squirm.

Manabe stopped, just a hallway from Yuki’s homeroom, and jerked his thumb to show that he was heading in the opposite direction. It had felt like an eternity, but now that Manabe was slipping their arms apart, Yuki realised that he felt lonely without it.

“You have a really nice smile, you know,” Manabe said and he took Yuki’s hand. For a moment, he seemed in earnest. Even his smile seemed less goofy. “Yuki.”

Yuki released their hands. They were words that he’d heard before – would hear again – though he never enjoyed them.

“See you at lunch,” he murmured.

And walked the rest of the way to his homeroom, with that less goofy grin still in his mind.

*

Lunch with Manabe went more normally than Yuki had ever thought it would.

In fact, this could have been the way it had always been. Manabe seemed to slot in so easily to Uotani’s teasing, to stopping Kyo from (pretending) to start a fight with Momiji (because they all knew he would never _really_ punch him, to chatting with Tohru about recipes.

“You cook?” Tohru asked.

“Most of the time.” Manabe was leant against the fence and thankfully he wasn’t done with his bento, so Yuki didn’t have to think about the inevitable holding hands situation. “My mother’s always busy with work, so it usually falls to me. But I don’t mind – it’s better that I try out dishes only I’m going to eat, just in case they turn out awful.”

“Sounds better than having to listen to Tohru flap about how it tastes whenever she tries a new recipe,” Kyo muttered. But there was a smirk on his face. He seemed to make sure that Tohru saw it, and knew that he was teasing.

Teasing – it came so easily to Kyo with Tohru, but it was something Yuki had never gotten the hang of.

Until this morning, he realised. When he had teased Kakeru Manabe.

Why was that? Was it because he didn’t care about hurting Manabe’s feelings (as much)?

“What about you, Yun-chan? Can you cook?” Manabe’s voice broke him from his reverie.

Kyo immediately snorted, and Momiji laughed loudly. Even Tohru smiled, though she did her best to hide it behind her hair.

“Everything Yuki cooks turns out burnt,” Momiji explained, with a touch more satisfaction than was necessary.

“Miss Honda is in charge of the food in our house,” Yuki added, as thought that would sooth the damage done.

“I see.” Manabe’s hand traced over the back of Yuki’s, and he froze involuntarily. “I’ll have to teach you to cook alongside what T.V shows to let take over your life.”

“I don’t know which sounds worse,” Yuki murmured.

There were more laughs at that, and Manabe leant against Yuki’s shoulder. It took a moment before he realised that was okay – that he wasn’t going to transform from that. And then he found that he liked the weight on him.

This was all normal. Everyone chatting and laughing as if nothing was wrong.

Everyone except Hatsu-Haru. He watched Manabe silently. Evaluating his every move and examining Yuki’s reaction to it. It felt like a constant pressure Yuki’s side – that he was being watched. This was different from the fan club girls watching. If Manabe did something that Hatsu-Haru didn’t like, they risked Black Haru.

Manabe didn’t deserve that. Didn’t need to know anything about that.

“So, tell me the truth,” Manabe said to Yuki, as they were walking to class after the bell. They were a few steps behind everyone else, and Manabe spoke low. “Are you all like – closely related, or –”

“No,” Yuki replied. And tried not to clench his jaw at the thought of revealing anything more about his family than he needed to. “We’re just a very large extended family, that’s all.”

“Ah.” Manabe paused. His hand brushed the back of Yuki’s as they walked – as Manabe swung his bag carelessly. Yuki twitched his away. “Well, it must be cool. To be so close and all. I don’t know half the names of people beyond my aunts and uncles.”

“It has it’s ups and downs.” Yuki felt his mouth twitch upwards, and tried to fight it. Ups and downs indeed – close because of a curse.

Manabe noticed – because of course he did. “What’s that look for?”

“Hm?” Yuki let the smirk fall into his usual polite smile. “Nothing.”

Manabe narrowed his eyes, but it was teasing. More teasing – something that Yuki was quickly getting used to.

Maybe quickly enjoying.

*

“He’s different for you.”

“Did you really need to call me to tell me that?”

Yuki stood in the hallway, staring at the front door and feeling his face growing warm. He heard the crackle of Hatsu-Haru’s laugh on the other end of the phone. He must have called as soon as he got in – as soon as Yuki had got in at least.

He could hear Shigure in the living room, asking Tohru and Kyo how their days had been. For once, he itched to join them. To pretend that school – his refuge from the Zodiac – wasn’t happening.

“I needed some time to think,” Hatsu-Haru said. “To – digest him, if you will. And he’s…not who I would expect you to fall for.”

To fall for. To fall in love with. Did Yuki look as though he was in love with Manabe? He should, shouldn’t he?

“Why not?” It would have been normal for him to get defensive – if this was all real.

“Because he’s like your brother.” Hatsu-Haru was blunt – but the bluntness cut through to Yuki’s core. He felt the phone start to slip from his fingers. “He’s lively and careless and… I would have thought that you would avoid someone like that – at all costs.”

“I…” Yuki’s mouth was dry, suddenly. “He’s not like Ayame.”

Manabe wouldn’t turn his back on anyone. Not ever. Yuki wasn’t sure how he knew that – but he did. And this way, he could tell himself he felt so strongly because his brother was involved.

“I like him, Yuki.” Hatsu-Haru gave a half laugh again. “As well as I can like anyone who stole my first love from me.”

“Don’t start.”

“And he can cook – that’s good for you.”

“I will hang up on you.”

“Go on, then.”

Yuki didn’t. He tightened his grip on the phone, and leant his hip against the table it sat on. He could hear the T.V in the next room – hear Kyo yelling at Shigure about something.

“Well, I’m glad I have your blessing.” He let the sarcasm drip from his tongue, because it was better than admitting he didn’t have the willpower to put the phone down.

“Hey – I said I liked him. He’s going to have to work a lot harder for my blessing.”

Yuki wanted to smile at that. But he couldn’t. Instead, he felt an all too familiar twitch of guilt in his stomach. “Is that all, Haru?”

“That’s all.” Hatsu-Haru paused. “I love you.”

“You too.”

Yuki heard a click, as Hatsu-Haru put the phone down. He slowly followed suit, his mind wandering in circles. Manabe too different to Yuki? He wasn’t sure. They teased each other – it went both ways, and that was the common ground of their relationship. He was cheerful and carefree, sure, but the same could be said about Tohru. She wasn’t too different a friend for him.

And just like Tohru, Yuki suspected that the cheerful demeanour was hiding something. Something that Manabe wasn’t ready to tell him. That was fair enough, he supposed.

There was so much that he couldn’t explain either.

*

The week stretched out and it was strange, really, how easily Yuki fell into the routine. Fell into meeting Manabe at the school gates – hugging him – walking to school with their hands joined. Got used to the glares of the fan club girls, and the muttering. The muttering that had died down, actually.

And the fan club girls were leaving Tohru alone. Both Tohru and Machi. Probably Manabe too, since they were always together.

It was just like they had planned. Yuki and Manabe had changed the status quo of the school, on a simple lie. Brilliant, really, though he would never admit that. Definitely couldn’t admit that he was getting used to the hugs, getting used to feeling Manabe’s hand in his. Getting used to the smiles and the teasing.

Maybe he was enjoying it. Another thing that he couldn’t admit.

It was after school council, on Friday, that Manabe swung his arm around Yuki’s shoulders. There was the familiar smell of his cologne. Like cinnamon.

“Give you a lift home?” he asked, his arm heavy.

Yuki could see Machi watching them, her dark eyes impassive.

“What?” he asked.

“I said I’ll give you a ride home.” Manabe took the question away. “It looks like rain.”

There were three members of the fan club walking by, carrying paper and supplies the opposite way. They slowed, not so subtly, as they approached, their ears all but twitching. So Yuki had to say, “Sure,” even though he had no idea what Manabe meant by ‘ride.’

He found out, five minutes later, when they were stood in front of the bike railings. Machi had already unbuckled hers from the rail, and said goodbye to Manabe, as he struggled with the lock. Yuki suspected it was on purpose – that they had discussed this, given the speed that Machi cycled off at.

It left him, watching Manabe finally free his bike.

“I thought we had agreed against this,” he said, leaning on one of the posts with his arms crossed. He was just realising the situation – what it would mean – and there was no way. Not outside of school.

“Yeah, I know.” Manabe wheeled the bike slowly out, his eyes on his hands and not on Yuki. “But I need to tell you something. Important.”

Yuki didn’t reply. He watched Manabe swing a leg over the bike, adjusting the pedals so that they sat horizontally. He’d left plenty of room on the back of the saddle.

“It’ll save your legs if you get on too,” Manabe said, finally looking up at him. His brown eyes were earnest – they seemed all the warmer against the grey weather.

Yuki opened his mouth – to say that he had never ridden on the back of a bike because it wasn’t safe. Because he could fall off. Because it meant clinging on to someone else.

But he knew that if he did, he’d receive a smirk and a sarcastic comment. That Manabe might call him Princess, and there would be laughter in his eyes. Might even call him a scaredy-cat.

So he unfolded his arms. And slipped onto the back of the bike.

“You can put your feet on those sticky out bits on the back wheel,” Manabe said, as Yuki sat on the leather seat. He had been wrong. There was not much room there. Nowhere near as much as he thought. He was pressed much to closely against Manabe’s back, even if he tried to lean back.

He put his feet on the metal by the back wheel, and felt that his hands were an extra part.

Manabe hadn’t kicked off yet. He waited a moment, then gave a sigh, that might have been a laugh.

“Here,” he said, and took one of Yuki’s wrists. He wrapped it around his midriff, so that Yuki’s fingers rested against Manabe’s stomach. He could feel it rise and fall slowly. “You hug me in front of all everyone, but you can’t touch me when we’re alone?”

That was exactly it, Yuki thought, as he gingerly placed his other hand around Manabe. This wasn’t an act. Yuki could deal with acting – he had been acting all his life – it was the offstage moments that he struggled with.

He didn’t reply, as Manabe began off, and began to peddle. They rode in silence out of the school grounds, at enough speed that Yuki’s hair caught the wind, but he didn’t think he was going to fall off.

No, he felt safe. Even a little thrilled, if his heartbeat was anything to go by.

And really, it wasn’t so bad, being this close to Manabe. That familiar cinnamon smell filled the air, seemed to bring vibrance to the cloudy day.

Manabe took the bike onto one of the cycle lanes. One that cut through fields of green instead of getting anywhere near the highway. He hadn’t asked Yuki what way to head to his house.

“So…” Manabe leant back slightly, and Yuki shifted. If this was important, he didn’t want to have his cheek pressed against Manabe’s back. He felt him sigh. “I had a girlfriend.”

“What?” Yuki stared at the mess of dark hair in front of him.

Manabe didn’t chuckle, like he usually would. He kept cycling, and his voice sounded detached as he continued, “Before I started this, I had a girlfriend. I was actually dating her when I told the fanclub girls I was with you.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Yuki said. He felt numb – completely numb. Strangely disappointed, but he didn’t want to think about why.

“You’ve told me.”

“And I’ll tell you again, because you definitely shouldn’t have done it if you already had a girlfriend.”

Manabe leant back, further, and laughed. His head tipped back slightly, as if he was trying to catch the breeze.

“Call it a foolish sense of chivalry,” he said.

Yuki blinked. “For Miss Kuragi?”

“Yeah.” Manabe paused. Leant forward again. And there was something slightly different in his tone when he said, “I guess.”

“Have you told her?” Yuki asked. He shuffled on the seat, trying to reclaim the room that Manabe had stolen from him.

“Told who what?”

Yuki fought not to sigh. Not to snap. “Your girlfriend. Have you told her that –”

We’re only pretending to date? It sounded ridiculous to say out loud.

“I didn’t,” Manabe said. “I wasn’t planning to because it was just school stuff, you know? It was Machi, who told her. She didn’t see the funny side.”

“No. I think you’re the only one who does.” Now, Yuki was snapping because he felt something in his stomach. Something uncomfortable. This had affected things. Really affected Manabe’s life.

“Well, hey, someone has to.” The light tone disappeared from Manabe’s voice as quickly as it had come. “She broke up with me. She thought I had been cheating on her. And she wasn’t happy that it was with a boy.”

“But you said you were –”

“People don’t really get bisexuality.” Manabe’s hands tightened on the handlebars. “And the whole thing just played into the stereotype she had of that.”

He didn’t sound like he usually did. Manabe sounded – distant. His voice sounded forced. There was none of the endless cheer he usually had. There was another facet to him, Yuki realised. One that was bottled up and that he didn’t usually talk about.

Just like the bottle Yuki had.

And he felt a flash of anger at that. Angry that Manabe had told him. Had shown him this softer side – this less irritating side. Made him seem so much more real. So much more than just a nuisance. He wished he hadn’t said anything.

It made him angry. Angry that Manabe had been reckless and careless and that it had cost him a girl that he liked. Angry that a throwaway comment – one that he hadn’t even wanted – had led to so much mess. Angry that Yuki was the cause of a girl’s heartache and he wanted to – needed to fix it.

Because this was _for_ girls. Everything in his life was for a girls.

“Then let’s stop it. We’ll pretend to break up, and she’ll –”

“Then my act of chivalry will be for nothing. Everything will go back to the way it was.”

The bike went over a pebble and jolted. Yuki clutched Manabe tighter, and wanted to kick himself for doing it. Still, it was easier like this, pressed closely against his back, than seeing white knuckles on the handlebar. Knowing that Manabe was struggling with something.

“Why don’t you just explain it to her?” Yuki asked. “And to Miss Kuragi”

“Nah, Machi’s a blabbermouth. She’ll spread it all over the school.”

Yuki thought that was the exact opposite of everything he knew about Machi. Thought that was an excuse, but he couldn’t figure out what for.

The anger was back. Burning hot in his chest as though there was a bonfire there. The smoke seemed to crawl up his throat, making it feel warm, and hard to breathe.

He put his foot down on the path, and the bike jolted to a stop.

Yuki stood, steading at Manabe’s back trying to control the fire in him. The snap of anger.

“Why tell me?” he demanded. “Why tell me this, if there’s nothing that can be done about it?”

Manabe turned, shifting on the bike. He stared up at Yuki, with his eyes wide, as though he had never seen him angry before. Maybe he hadn’t – not _this_ angry at least. Truly angry and not just snapping and rolling his eyes.

Manabe hadn’t seen Yuki truly furious.

Then Manabe’s cheeks coloured. Pink flushed into them.

Finally, he scowled. “Because, I –”

“Why would you sacrifice that for Miss Kuragi?” Yuki continued.

Manabe blinked. For a moment, he looked as dazed as Hatsu-Haru did.

Then he laughed. A hollow, infuriating laugh that made Yuki clamber off the bike completely. He started down the path – he’d walk off the road. Get back home by himself and make sure never to go home with Manabe again.

He stopped before he did. “It’s not funny to mess people around like that!”

Manabe tilted his head to the side. He was still grinning. The light came through the trees and dappled his skin with gold – dappled his hair with it too. It made an ideallic scene, and that made everything more frustrating.

“Oh, Yun-Yun.” The nickname should have made it stiffen. But Manabe said it so softly – looked at him with something different in his eyes, that he froze instead. “You’re meant to be so smart. You can figure it out, can’t you?”

Yuki couldn’t. He couldn’t even begin to figure anything out anymore. Not when his heart was racing through every part of him and Manabe wasn’t grinning like he was teasing him. He couldn’t event take a breath, let alone think. Or speak.

Manabe waited a moment. “You getting back on?”

Yuki shook his head.

Manabe paused, looking over him, then kicked off from the ground.

The bicycle squeaked slightly as it pulled away, its load halved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I feel like we've gotten into the proper meat of the story now and I'm excited that it's gaining interest.  
> I also need to catch up on Season 2 at some point..  
> But yeah, thank you so so much for the comments - if I didn't reply its because I can only say thank you! It really does mean a lot!  
> <3 xx


	4. 4

4

Machi cornered Yuki as he stepped out of class to head to lunch. She stepped into his path, glaring up at him with those eyes. Eyes that were a strange mix of grey and brown. He was taller than her, and yet the way she looked at him made him feel small.

“Can I talk to you?”

It wasn’t a question, but Yuki still said, “of course.”

He didn’t smile. If it was a girl that he didn’t know so well – didn’t work with so often, then he would have turned on the charm. There was no point with Machi.

“Do you want us to save a place for you?” Tohru asked. _She_ smiled – at both him and Machi. He could almost read her thoughts – that this was a potential friend. Tohru saw the world like a puppy would.

Yuki shook his head. “I’ll eat with Kakeru today.”

It was strange, how easily he could say his first name, and yet still didn’t say Tohru’s. The name Kakeru seemed to fit better in his mouth. At least, when he was speaking to other people.

He’d never said it to Manabe’s face.

Machi was waiting, so he followed her down the corridor. To the student council room. She slipped inside, and hadn’t even waited until he closed the door behind him, before she said, “Kakeru never said you were dating.”

Yuki had been expecting this. For the week and a half this had been happening, he had noticed Machi’s watching eyes. Noticed the tautness in her shoulders and the slight crease between her brows. His conversation, just yesterday with Manabe had been a warning as well – he hadn’t told Machi about any of this, and she had told his girlfriend.

That did not mean he knew what to say to her now.

“I gathered,” he managed, and it was clearly not what Machi wanted to hear. She folded her arms, looking over him again.

“How long?” she asked. “How long was he lying to her?”

“I don’t –” He didn’t know. No idea what the right answer was. The longer he said, the worse it made Manabe look, and he didn’t want to make Manabe look bad. Not to his family. “I didn’t even know about that.”

That was also wrong. He realised that a second later when Machi’s lips twisted. Not only had he not answered her – he made everything seem worse. Made Manabe into someone who lied to his girlfriend whilst he saw a boy behind her back.

But Manabe was someone who lied, Yuki thought. That was how he’d gotten into all of this. A lie. A lie for Machi.

Or was it?

Yesterday had been a different story.

“I only mean –” What could he say to remedy this? After all, Yuki lied too. It should be easy. “Not long – not for very long at all, so that’s why – why I suppose that he wouldn’t tell you.”

“And wouldn’t even break off one relationship before starting another?” Machi snapped.

This was awful. Machi had handed him a shovel and he had started digging, willingly.

“He was happy with her,” Machi said. Folded her arms like she was protecting herself. “ _You_ didn’t have to listen to him go on and on about her for years – till he _finally_ asked her out. And then it turned into how great everything was – how much he cared about her – he didn’t mention you. He never mentions you like _that_.”

Yuki opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was stuck on yesterday’s comment now, and it was making him just as jumbled and confused as every time his mind returned to it. And now there was a pain in his chest, even though he didn’t care that Manabe didn’t speak about him to Machi – he _didn’t_.

And how could he possibly explain this? Why should he be the one to pick up Manabe’s mess? There was that flash of anger again, and he tightened his grip on the door handle behind him. Why was _he_ being attacked.

“I don’t know,” he said. And saw Machi pause at the bite in his voice. Not scared of him – just interested by it. Watching. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I _have.”_ And now Machi’s voice cracked slightly. “But he just smiles and shrugs and changes the subject.”

“Sounds like Kakeru.” Yuki hadn’t meant to say it, but it was true. It was just as hard for him to get anything out of the boy.

“So you tell me.” Machi’s arms were still folded, her knuckles white where they dug into her skin. “Tell me the story. From your point of view.”

“I – I don’t –” He wanted Manabe here. To make up the answers for him.

“Who confessed?” she asked it so quickly, so determinedly – like a snake striking from the grass, that he spoke without thinking.

“Me.”

“When?”

“Two weeks ago. After student council.” He was speaking fast, barely paying attention to what he was saying.

“What did he say?”

“That it would annoy the fan club girls.” Then, Yuki saw a way out. Not the whole truth, but not a whole lie, either. “That’s probably all it is. He’s not serious, Miss Kuragi, he’s just…”

She was looking agonised. Her fingers twitched and then she moved – fast – and Yuki flinched. But Machi was just moving to the stand at the side of the room, flinging the books off with one swipe. They tumbled to the floor.

Then she kicked one.

“Miss Kuragi –” Yuki stepped forward to stop her – because she was going to hurt herself – but her foot was already still.

“She broke up with him,” she said. “I told her and she broke up with him.”

He was quiet. Not because he was scared of her, but because he could see she was thinking. And that she needed time and space to do that.

Machi shook her head, her dark hair catching the light and now it looked so like Manabe’s. Yuki remembered him in the soft light of the trees, and his heart remembered how quickly it had been running.

“And you’re okay with that?” she asked, and her eyes flickered up to his. “You confessed to him, but you’re okay that he’s just playing a game?”

Had he said that? Why had he said that?

“I suppose I –”

“It’s unbearable,” Machi snapped. “How you worm your way into everything around here.”

“I don’t want to!” Yuki snapped back. “I don’t want all those girls to – I don’t want this attention – I don’t want to worm my way into anything!”

Something connected. He figured something out, but he couldn’t acknowledge that he had. The thing he had figured out was a scary, strange thing that he couldn’t look at.

“You’re student council president,” Machi said. Not in a disgusted or mean way. A matter of fact. A question of ‘why would you be president if you don’t want attention?’

“That was for me.” Yuki didn’t have to explain that.

The door opened. Suddenly.

And it was Manabe. If he noticed anything in the air, he didn’t mention it.

“There you are,” he said. “Come on, I’m starving.”

“Missing Yun-Yun’s company?” Machi raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Manabe’s arm went around Yuki, pulling him closer. Something he was getting used to – bearing – but now he pushed Manabe off. And had him peer instead. “Ah, was Machi giving you the hurt him and I’ll kill you talk?”

Yuki shook his head. “We need to explain.”

Manabe’s smile froze.

“Yes,” Machi said. “You do.”

She was not a person who had her feelings close to the surface, but Yuki could tell she was distressed. From the way she was absently grinding one of the books into the floor to her clenched fists. Her knuckles were white, just like Manabe’s had been.

Manabe was quiet. He watched the destruction of the book and said, absently, “don’t do that, Machi.”

“It’s not –” Yuki said. And Manabe sighed next to him, but he could feel the load lifting from his chest.

Machi’s foot stopped. Of all the things Yuki had said, it seemed as though that was the thing that had shocked her the most. She stared, but her eyes were unfocused.

“I can take it from here, honey.” Manabe put a hand on Yuki’s shoulder. He still didn’t look at him. “Please.”

It was the way his voice cracked as he said the word that worried Yuki. Made him desperate to stay because he had never heard Manabe sound like _that._ And yet it was what pushed him out of the door because Manabe was _serious_ and he did not want Yuki here.

So he left. The word ‘honey’ still bouncing around his mind like a bee, but he couldn’t concentrate on that. He was trying to imagine the conversation that he wasn’t there for. Trying to imagine how Manabe was wording it – if he was spreading more lies – if Machi was getting more distressed – if she could even believe him now.

Yuki hadn’t said the right thing. He knew that.

He didn’t head to Manabe’s friends. He didn’t head to his friends either. Instead, he headed to the library. It was light there, which was good. He could tuck himself into a corner and just – breathe. Just concentrate on not transforming into a rat because he was stressed – he had been so stressed this week and a half.

And he knew that sooner or later, he would break.

*

Things were changing. Girls were staring to say good morning or good afternoon to him as they passed. With a relieved smile. They could make eye contact, or talk to Yuki now that they weren’t so scared of the fanclub. The girls had backed off. They still looked sour, but they were at a stalemate.

If Yuki liked boys, then there was no danger of girls to protect him from.

He’d thought that had been ironic, at first, because he _did_ need protecting from girls. Now, he released he’d just been ignoring his fears – not dealing with them.

He was sure that they were still holding out hope that he would like girls too. That they would still have a chance.

Did Yuki like boys? His first thought had been no, of course not. But – if he didn’t like boys, then did he like girls? He wasn’t sure. He thought he liked Tohru, but he was starting to realise that it wasn’t _that_ kind of like.

Manabe hugged him, or held his hand, or put his arm around Yuki’s shoulders and it felt differently to holding Tohru’s hand, or hugging her (and not just because of the curse). When he thought about kissing Tohru – he thought about how it would make her feel. It would be a Prince kissing a Princess.

What did he feel when he thought about kissing Manabe?

Yuki covered his mouth, as though that would erase the thought. It didn’t matter. No kissing.

He sat on his bed, and tried not to think about it. Not to think about his arms wrapped around Manabe and how it had felt as though he was in a nice, sappy movie when they had been on the bike. When there had been a happy thrum throughout all of him.

There was a knock at the door.

Yuki got up to answer it, tripping on the stack of books by his bed. He only ever opened the door part way, trying to cover the mess that was his room with his body.

It was Kyo.

Yuki stared at him.

“Do you wanna fight, or something?” Kyo asked. He looked awkward – was shuffling his weight and scratching the back of his neck, looking anywhere but Yuki.

“What?” Yuki was too stunned to even add ‘stupid cat.’

“You seem…pissed about whatever,” Kyo said. “So I thought you might want to hit me and then you’d feel better.”

Yuki leant against his doorframe and rolled his eyes. There was just _something_ about Kyo – the way he said things and the tone of voice he used that could really get on his nerves. He supposed that was just the way it was – to be a cat and a rat.

“I don’t need to hit things to make me feel better,” he said, and dropped as much disdain in his voice as he could.

Kyo blinked. Then he tilted his head to one side slightly. “Studies have shown that practising martial arts helps juveniles release aggression.”

“How do you know that?” Again, Kyo seemed to stun him.

“I…” Kyo sratched the back of his neck, again. “Read it from something Shishou had in his desk. Think he was trying to hide it from me.”

“Probably.”

If there was a juvenile who needed to release aggression, it was Kyo.

“So do you want to punch me or what?”

Yuki usually did. Because there were so many things that seemed to annoy him that Kyo did – things that became more and more annoying the more that he paid attention to them. Or there used to be – there were less now. Now that whatever was between them had started to – do whatever it was that it was doing. (Yuki did not like emotions.)

But, he was curious. And curiosity killed the cat.

“Why do you care?”

“Because…” Kyo paused. His mouth twisted. “Because Tohru won’t stop worrying about you and I would like her to stop.”

“Do you like her?” Yuki asked it before he could think about it.

“Like I would ever tell you a thing like that!” Kyo snapped, looking for all the world as though someone had stepped on his tail.

“I just – I just wondered.” Yuki couldn’t believe what he was doing. His life was getting stranger and stranger. “Never mind.”

“Just going to say you’re competing against me for that as well?” Kyo folded his arms over his chest, his mouth turning down.

“No, stupid,” he snapped as Kyo as much as he wanted to himself. He closed the door to his room, with a thud. But then, because his mouth was running in front of his brain. “Wondered how you knew something like that.”

There was a pause. Such a long pause that he wondered if Kyo had walked away, though he hadn’t heard any footsteps. All the same, Kyo could be light footed when he wanted to be. He could have snuck off.

But then Yuki heard a dull thud against the door. Not like a punch. More like someone resting their head against it.

“Look, I –” Kyo’s voice was muffled through the wood. “I'm still trying to work this out myself, alright?” He paused then, and Yuki could all but hear the cogs turning slowly in Kyo’s head. “Is this about you and that guy?”

“No!” Yuki spoke too quickly, feeling hot – much too hot – in his room all of a sudden.

“You don't know if you like him?”

Yuki hadn’t even remembered that they were supposed to be dating. That hadn’t been what he had been thinking of. And that realisation made him feel all the warmer.

“I do.” It was also too quick. His voice wobbled. Betrayed him.

“So, what's the problem?”

“Nothing,” Yuki said. He sighed, and leant his forehead against the door. The wood was cool against his jumbled brain. “I'm tired…I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well…” Kyo’s voice trailed off. There was another light thud, on the door. And then Yuki heard footsteps heading down the corridor.

He supposed that was that. And it didn’t add to the heaps of confusion on him because they had a conversation on their own that did not end in a fist fight. It didn’t end in name calling. It didn’t even end in anger. And Yuki was realising that Kyo was being oddly accepting of all of this. Hadn’t made any of this a big deal.

As much as he was the cat, Yuki respected him for that.

*

Yuki couldn’t remember a time when his stomach was not in a jumble. When he didn’t feel much like breakfast but ate some anyway to please Tohru. When he was lost in his thoughts in the walk to school and had no idea what would happen once he got there.

What happened was he saw Manabe standing at the gates with Machi and the fact that he hadn’t been torn limb from limb by her – or any of the fanclub members – filled Yuki with much more relief than he’d ever thought he would feel for him.

The relief made his brain shut down. Made him close the distance between them, and, just as Manabe turned around, and arm in the air to wave hello – Yuki hugged him.

He had chosen to hug another person. And the relief he felt when he didn’t transform was still so great. It was like a drug high. His arms were around Manabe’s shoulders and his face was against his shoulder – near his neck. Heart crawled up his back.

It didn’t even take Manabe a second before he hugged Yuki back. Held him slightly tighter than usual, Yuki thought.

“Isn’t this a surprise?” he heard Manabe murmur, into Yuki’s hair.

There it was. The twinge of selfish guilt in Yuki’s gut. That he was taking advantage of this.

“You’re okay,” Yuki replied. And realised that was just another thing he had been worried about.

Machi gave him a nod and maybe the corners of her mouth were turned up slightly too.

"I gave you a hard time," she said. "Eat lunch with us today."

Which Yuki took to be an apology.

"Yes," Manabe said, seriously. He laced his fingers into Yuki’s. "Because if those girls think there's anything up between us, I'll be torn limb from limb for breaking your heart."

“Oh, don’t worry – we’ll step in,” that was Uotani. Grinning lopsidedly and rolling her shoulder with her palm. Yuki hadn’t even seen her coming.

Manabe just laughed. His hand was still in Yuki’s.

They walked in together, and the fanclub girls were watching. It made Yuki’s skin prickle now, when it hadn’t before.

“Did they bother you yesterday?” he asked, in a low voice.

Manabe grimaced. He held up their hands and said, “this isn’t aloud, according to them.”

Maybe it was because Yuki was so wound up anyway. Because he was tired of being stressed and that was why he felt that flash of anger so usually reserved for Kyo. Maybe that was what made him drop Manabe’s hand, to put an arm around him – his hand on his waist instead. Their hips bumped together and Yuki’s stomach leapt. He was doing this.

Manabe chuckled.

“No physical contact,” he said, even though his arm was slipping around Yuki too.

It was Yuki’s turn to laugh. “They won’t say anything whilst I’m here.”

Even though he could feel their glares like fire on his skin. But he was starting to find himself annoyed at being told what he could or couldn’t do. No – it was worse than that – it was the people around him getting told what they couldn’t do and then behaving strangely.

This was all fake, but that didn’t matter so much anymore. If anything, it made this better. More infuriating to them.

“It’s meant to be the knight in shining armour who protects the Prince,” Manabe huffed, but he was smiling.

“Oh? Are you a knight?”

Machi answered for Manabe. “No. He isn’t.”

Manabe turned to her. “Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

This was probably how Tohru felt, Yuki realised. At him and Kyo arguing constantly. And it made him roll his eyes.

Because this was getting to be not so bad.

It wasn’t so bad, at all.

*

He waited by the bike shed after school. Lunch had been nice, he decided, as he thought back over it. It had been nice to sit with no one who knew about the zodiac curse. Not that they ever spoke about it with Uo and Hana around, but it was always there. Manabe and his friends chatted about normal things – no street gangs, no psychic powers. T.V and homework – and Yuki could join in there. That was the aim – to contribute to the conversation. And he had.

This had made Yuki feel normal. As normal as he could, when everyone in the school thought that he liked boys.

And that was the part that still made his stomach twist. Because he liked being friends with Manabe – actually liked being close with him, like this. But he didn’t think that it was like that. If he thought about why – he couldn’t. There was no way his mind would allow him to explore that. The why didn’t matter.

“Are you happy, Prince Yuki?”

The voice was sudden, and had said exactly what he had just been contemplating, that he started. Then found the owner of the voice. Minagawa. He recognised her. The president. The girl who had burst into tears in front of him and shouted about flirting. Who told him that she’d be a different person by graduation.

He was staring at her. And it took him a moment to remember her question. To remember not to answer completely honestly.

“I am.” Best keep things simple.

“But...but he’s –” She was near tears again, Yuki thought, and felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. “Normal – and shouldn’t be around you.”

Yuki took a breath, because there was that flash of anger and he was fighting it down. “I don’t think that you can decide that for me.”

He seemed to have taken her by surprise. She blinked at him, then frowned.

“He’s not right for you.”

It sounded so similar to what Hatsu-Haru said. And two weeks ago, Yuki would have agreed. But now that was something that he couldn’t think about. All he could do was gently nudge that fact aside.

“That’s not up to you.” He surprised himself, with how calm he sounded. “Please don’t interfere with my personal life.”

And now Minagawa really did look as though she was about to burst into tears. As frustrated as Yuki felt at her – at the fanclub – he felt himself softening. It was easy enough to fall into his old habit of telling them what they wanted to hear.

So he stepped forward, and put a hand on her shuddering shoulder.

“You've done a good job of protecting me,” he said, and forced himself to smile. “But now I need to stand on my own.”

Minagawa stared up at him with glistening eyes. The way they all looked at him when he lived up to their expectations – whether he meant to, or not.

“I...” Her lip trembled, but at least now she looked happy. Honoured.

It sent a hot poker swirling around Yuki’s stomach.

“Yun-Yun!” Manabe’s voice called out from behind him, and he turned to see him approaching the bike shed. His keys dangled from his fingers, and caught the light.

Yuki fought to make the first name come out of his mouth. “Kakeru.”

“You want a ride home?”

“Why else would I be here?” Yuki raised and eyebrow, and Manabe laughed as he unchained his bike. He stepped forward, because it was easier to do that then keep talking to Minagawa.

“Tell me, Prince Yuki.” Her voice stopped him in his tracks. He looked back, over his shoulder to see conviction on her features. “Did any of us ever have a chance?”

His chest felt tight. Not particularly because of her – but because of the wider question. Any of them. Any girls. And he thought he knew the answer, but knew she wouldn’t want to hear it. If he was honest, he wouldn’t want to either.

He spoke slowly, considering each word before it escaped his mouth, “I couldn't possibly say.”

She nodded, slightly, but didn’t say anything more. Instead, damp eyes watched him as he swung himself onto the back of Manabe’s bike. He stared at the ground, watching Manabe kick off from the concrete.

Manabe waved goodbye to the girl as they left. Yuki stared at Manabe’s shoulder. There was a stray thread by his collar. He was all too aware of his arms around Manabe’s stomach – wondering if he was holding him too tightly. Wanting to hold him tighter because he felt exhausted, suddenly. Wanted to rest his chin just by that stray thread – and knowing that was an awful idea.

They were clear of the school by the time Manabe said, “harsh.”

“Shut up.”

Manabe hummed. He leant back slightly, so that his face caught the wind.

“I think it's good that you're standing up for yourself,” he said. “You're always too nice to those girls.”

What else was he supposed to do? “Hm.”

“I mean it.” The bike was slowing, as though it was thinking with Manabe. He was taking a different path this time, through fields. The town sat on the horizon, like a toy village. “You told Kimi off for messing with them but they're the ones messing with everyone around you.”

Yuki paused. He stared out – at the clear sky beyond the collection of buildings.

“You can’t fight fire with fire,” he murmured.

Manabe’s tone was pointed. “Who's the one fake-dating me?”

“That's...” Yuki felt his cheeks warm. That was because he was selfish. That was because he had decided that he had enough of them. And he hadn’t thought about the hypocrisy.

The bike slowed to a halt. Manabe was staring out at the fields, the wind catching the dark hair at the nape of his neck.

Then, as if they’d discussed it, Yuki climbed off of the back. Stepping off the path and into the field. The grass was tall enough to reach his ankles. Manabe followed him, wheeling the bike.

“What did you tell Miss Kuragi?” he asked as they walked.

Manabe glanced at him. His brown eyes caught the sun, turning to dark gold. Dark honey, Yuki thought, and remembered the pet name.

“That I did this because there was someone I wanted to protect from those girls,” Manabe said. His chin was tilted up to the sky slightly, and he didn’t glance at Yuki. “And that I didn't think the news would ever get to Komaki.”

Yuki sat, in the grass and pulled a knee up to his chest. It was just another feeling swirling around inside him. The breeze stirred the grass around him, caught his hair so that it helped to hide his face.

“I'm sorry about that,” he said, as Manabe sat next to him.

“Now you're sorry.” There was something of a rueful smile at the corner of Manabe’s mouth.

Yuki looked at him. Into dark honey eyes. “What?”

“You were just angry at me last time.”

His cheeks grew hot again, and Yuki fought the urge to hide behind his bangs. “Well - what was I supposed to think?”

Manabe shrugged. "I don’t know.”

He paused, his fingers digging through the grass, bronze in the sun. Tan against green as he rooted through as plucked out a handful of clover. His shoulders rose heavily as he sorted through it, not glancing at Yuki.

“Komaki was always the girl I wanted and yet –” Manabe bit his lip. “She felt so normal.”

Normal. The thing that Yuki was never going to be. And the thing that Manabe didn’t seem to realise he was.

“Normal is good.”

“Well obviously I don’t want to date someone who’ll kill me in my sleep – like not someone _weird_ , you know?” Manabe scratched the back of his neck. Yuki tried to look normal – like he didn’t have a weird secret. “But...it was like...when we were on a date it all felt like some kind of movie. Like we were the perfect couple. And we would date all the way through high school and then get married and get boring jobs that we didn't really like, have kids, grow old...be...unremarkable.” He sighed, and lent back on his hands. “It wasn’t her fault I felt that way. Maybe it’s good that we’re taking a break.”

He seemed to forget that she had broken up with him.

Yuki didn’t know what to say. That was the exact thing he would never have. And now that he heard Manabe say it like that, he wondered what he was really missing out on.

“Hm,” he said, trying desperately to think of something more meaningful. Something that would make Manabe feel better. Girl troubles weren’t something he was used to. What would Tohru say? “They say if you love something set it free. Maybe you'll feel differently after some time apart.”

“Maybe.” Manabe didn’t move.

It clearly wasn’t good. But the moment was gone and Yuki couldn’t think of anything more. He didn’t have Tohru’s knack of saying the right words to make someone feel better. Instead, he thought back over what they had said – searching for anything to fill the awkward silence.

“What did you mean? You always wanted her?” Yuki asked, a strange feeling in his chest. Wanted – had he ever wanted someone in that way?

“Ah.” Manabe went back to scratching the back of his neck. He took another long breath, nudging the wheel of the bike with his foot. “Family stuff. Stiff upbringing.” He paused and finally glanced at Yuki. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to one side. “We've never really talked personal like this, have we?”

“No.” Yuki looked away because there was something puppy-like in Manabe’s eyes that he didn’t want to see. Talking personal was never a good option.

“So?” Manabe’s trainer nudged Yuki’s. “What was your childhood like?”

It was the kind of childhood that made Yuki’s stomach turn into a black hole if he thought about it for a second. But that was depressing. And he didn’t like Manabe being serious.

Instead, he leant back on his hands too, and forced his lips to twitch upwards. “Guess.”

“Hmm...well you're a prince, so…” Manabe ran a hand over his chin, as though he was thinking hard. “Were you trapped as a frog until Miss Honda kissed you?”

Yuki laughed. He hadn’t meant to. But Manabe was so oddly close and so oddly far at the same time, that he couldn’t help it.

"Not quite," he said. And pulled at the grass, looping it around his fingers. When was the last time he had just sat like this? And laughed?

“Locked in a tower?”

Yuki’s smile froze. The warmth of the afternoon suddenly felt too hot – too hot compared to the ice cold hand that was in his ribcage. And if it had been anyone else at school, he wondered if it would have hesitated – or if he would have laughed again and smiled politely.

But things were starting to change with Manabe. Things were starting to get harder to hide. So he stayed silent, and stared at the normal buildings in the distance, letting the wind take his hair to hide his face.

“I told you about Komaki,” Manabe said, gently.

Vulnerable. That was what he didn’t like about serious Manabe. He was vulnerable and that was too much. Made Yuki see him as more than an annoyance – more than a student council member. Reminded him of himself.

So he said, “I did karate.”

“Huh? Really?” Manabe sat up properly now, and from the corner of his eye, Yuki could see Manabe’s eyes had widened to saucers.

Yuki nodded, and felt a flutter of relief that the distraction had worked.

“Show me some moves,” Manabe said.

“Absolutely not.” There was that twitch at Yuki’s lips again. He couldn’t seem to control it, around Manabe.

“Please Yun-Yun.” Manabe clutched Yuki’s shoulder. “I won’t ask about your childhood anymore, alright?”

“Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely.”

Manabe had the knack of looking like a sweet, earnest child when he wanted to. And even though Yuki didn’t really believe him, he found himself giving in.

“Fine.”

Manabe really did look like a child now. Grinning as he pulled Yuki to his feet. His hands were warm, Yuki noticed, warmer than they usually were. When had he started paying attention to things like that?

They stood in front of each other. And for a moment, Yuki thought about just flipping Manabe. Like he did to Kyo. Just over his shoulder in a cold, uncaring way. But something about the flush of excitement on his cheeks made Yuki pause.

And he decided to slow down. To show Manabe a basic drill and watch him get more and more giddy about the fact that he – Prince Yuki – did karate. Only he didn’t feel like that Yuki, when he was around Manabe. It was like being around Tohru.

Instead of Prince Yuki, he felt like himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I don't know if they ever say what martial arts the Sohma's study? Or if they do, I don't remember it. It says on Kazuma's wiki page that he's a karate master, so I went with that.  
> I'm enjoying proofing this fic, which is good.   
> Again - thank you all so much for the comments and support! If I don't reply I can only say thank you!! <3 It really does mean the world to me and is why I enjoy writing fic so much. Please do leave any thoughts below   
> And I will update again next week xxx


	5. 5

5

Yuki taught Manabe a basic drill – and somehow his speed impressed Manabe. Instead of being flattered, Yuki just rolled his eyes. It was nothing special, really. Martial arts had always come easily to him, and he had done it for years – of course he would be good at it. It made him relieved that he hadn’t shown Manabe anything meaningful – any flips – it would have blown his mind. Yuki would send him tumbling into the grass and he would lie there, grinning up at him with round eyes. Completely impressed that the Prince of the school could do such a thing. That he was an action hero.

The green around him would look good against Manabe’s dark hair. If it was splayed out on the grass.

Aesthetically speaking, of course.

Or – Yuki could see why Manabe would be popular with girls. He had that kind of sunny smile that Tohru had, and when he wasn’t being aggravating, he could be funny. Or, as he’d shown Yuki in the last few days – vulnerable. And that made Yuki feel – something. He didn’t know. Didn’t like to think about that.

And he was good looking. If Yuki thought like a girl. He could see the appeal in those honey coloured eyes and the soft, dark hair. In the fair cut of his jaw and slope of his nose.

He wondered if this girl – Komaki Nakao – had thought that. If she had been delighted when he had asked her to date. He couldn’t imagine that – because that had been the thing that had turned his life even more upside down than it already was. That had given him these feelings that he didn’t know what to do with. That he couldn’t look at.

The week continued, in this new normal. Of the hugs and hand holding and letting Manabe drape an arm over Yuki’s shoulder. Of calling Manabe honey and having him use Yun-Yun when he wasn’t. Uotani and Hanajima either thought it was hilarious or spent their time treating Yuki like a little brother about to be married off.

It wasn’t – unbearable.

It should have been. If Ayamae had stroked his hair and cooed about losing him, he would have lost it. And though he raised an eyebrow at Hanajima, there was a part of him that was thrilled. They were close enough friends to mess around like this – for her to touch him. It was an achievement – as sad as that sounded.

Word had gotten around about what he had said to Minagawa. The fanclub girls had lost considerable enthusiasm. They watched Yuki with hurt eyes, so that he was reminded of kicked puppies. It made him feel terrible. Like he’d gone completely over the top. He _had_ to apologise.

“You deserve your privacy,” Manabe said, when Yuki brought it up. “Hasn’t this been better?”

Agonising guilt aside, yes. It had. Yuki had always been ‘popular,’ but now it felt like he was actually talking to people. Maybe not making friends, but making acquaintances.

“Well, they’re leaving everyone alone,” he muttered. “So is that it? Mission accomplished?”

“For now. If I break your heart, they’ll kidnap and torture me.” Was the response.

Yuki didn’t think they would go that far. But he did think if they officially broke up, things would get worse. They would come back, even more determined to control his life. To make sure that no one got close to Yuki. Now there was a chasm and he would fall into it if he wasn’t careful.

But if he was honest – this wasn’t _terrible_. Now that he was used to it – he liked the company.

Liked Manabe’s company.

*

It was after student council that Manabe asked if Yuki wanted to go up to the roof.

Immediately, Kimi asked, “ooh, date night?”

Manabe smiled at her and shrugged.

Yuki saw Machi’s raised eyebrows and found himself returning them. They were in sync – and she looked relieved that someone seemed to understand Manabe like she did. This wasn’t planned, and it was likely to infuriate him.

“Sure,” he said, to Manabe. But there was a glint in his eyes that he felt nervous of.

He waited until they were heading up the stairs before he asked it, “what are you scheming?”

“Honey, I’m hurt that you would ever think I had ulterior motives to spend time with you.” Manabe held a hand to his chest, his eyes wide.

Yuki crossed his arms. “Is the fanclub around?”

“They’re a club. They’re probably in their clubroom.” Manabe wasn’t looking at him.

Yuki stopped. Letting Manabe climb a few steps before he followed suit. Waited a moment, and then looked behind him. He had his hands in his pockets, and he was smiling.

“Then what’s on the roof?” Yuki asked.

The smile widened. And Manabe tapped the side of his nose, before he continued up the stairs.

Yuki had no choice. He had to follow. His stomach tried its best to curdle as he did.

Manabe held the door open for him, and Yuki stepped onto the roof.

“I didn’t want to show you in front of Kimi and Chibi,” Manabe said. He was crossing the roof, talking over his shoulder. “They’re first years so they won’t know about it.”

“Know about what?” Yuki stayed completely still.

“The culture festival.” Manabe turned. His smile was wider now. “I was busy all day with our stand, so I couldn’t see it – but Uotani slipped this to me.”

It was like magic. The way the picture appeared between his fingers. At the mention of the culture festival, Yuki could guess what it was – but it didn’t make him want to see it. He caught a glimpse of his hair – his face pale – and of course, the outfit – before he glanced away. It had been something that he had hidden, deep in his memory and pushed out of his mind whenever it came up, because it made his stomach drop.

And now that gleam in his eye made sense. This was a tease. A big tease to get back at Yuki for all the times he ganged up with Machi to make fun of Manabe’s taste in television. Or it was just because Manabe hadn’t gotten Yuki riled up since this had started, and he was missing having someone yell at him.

He knew it wasn’t _malicious_.

“Oh.” Yuki tried to keep his expression neutral. But he could feel his cheeks warm at the memory and it felt like a large stone was sat in his stomach. “Yes. That.”

“So, do you always wear dresses for them?” Manabe was still looking over his shoulder. Still wearing that evil grin.

“It was –” Yuki took a breath. Tried to keep himself calm. “It was a request from the seniors at the time.”

“I see!" His tone implied he did not see. Not one bit. Not how Yuki felt compelled to please people. Manabe looked at the photo again and seemed distracted. The teasing smile froze, and his eyes really focused on it. It made the stone even heavier. "You know, it suits you.” Manabe looked up, and smiled. “You look cute, Yun!"

It was a genuine smile. He really meant that. Yuki’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, and his first instinct was to snap. But he knew that was rising to the bait – even though the bait was now Manabe being earnest.

The day stuck in his memory, despite how much it curdled his stomach. Because, like so many things that stuck in his memory now – of Tohru. He remembered her smiling at him and remembered feeling as though he was full of fireworks.

So he channelled that feeling into a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Hm?” Manabe peered at him, blinking. Then he raised an eyebrow. “I thought I'd get smack for that.”

Yuki’s smile widened, and turned genuine too. He tilted his head to the side. “I can give you one if you like?”

Manabe scoffed. He looked away, putting his hands on the back of his head and starting across the roof again. “Nah, that was my get out of jail free card.”

“Hm?” Yuki followed him, now that the photo was away and the heat on his cheeks was disappearing.

Manabe glanced over, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

He stopped, looking through the wire fence. The green between the houses was starting to fade into browns – oranges – around the edges, so that the trees blended in with the tiled roofs of the houses. In the distance, they could see the town proper – with the larger, glass-paned, modern buildings. 

It made him think of Tohru’s work. Yuki stepped closer to the fence, and took it in his hand. He could hear her saying almost the same words as Manabe had said.

“It was Miss Honda,” he said, quietly. Why was he explaining it? He didn’t need to. But he was. “I hated it, at first, and I hated everyone calling me cute. I wanted to jump out of the window – run away.” He paused, feeling Manabe’s eyes on him. “But she - she came out on to the roof with me and…explain it was just their way of saying they liked me. That’s what her…mother meant…when she did. That's why –” Yuki’s fingers tightened on the wire mesh. “I'm trying to be take it in the right way.”

There was a silence. He felt Manabe’s gaze move off of him. Heard him give an awkward half-laugh.

“Okay, but I was just taking the –”

“Were you?” Yuki looked at him.

Manabe didn’t meet his eye as he murmured, “yeah.” Then did – with a sudden seriousness. He spoke slowly. “You know, you're a real mystery, Yun-chan. The prince of the school – and yet no girl had ever gotten a hug from you.” Manabe shook his head, and it set his bangs twitching. “You're like an idol or something.”

Sometimes that didn’t feel too far off.

“I'm really not.” Yuki shuffled. That made him sound like a fanclub girl – made Yuki sound much more perfect than he was.

They stood in silence for a minute. So long that Yuki started to wonder if he could go now – now that Manabe had what he wanted.

But then Manabe said, in a quiet, only slightly accusatory tone. “You hugged me.”

“Well, that's different,” Yuki said. Quickly.

“Because you like –”

“No.” Now his cheeks were red, as he turned to Manabe.

He looked back with a gentle expression. An understanding, soft tone. “It's okay if you are.”

“ _No.”_ Yuki’s fingers were so tight around the wire that it cut into his skin and stung. He felt hot – very hot – and focused on the anger instead of all of the other feelings because they would make him snap. This had been the thing that he didn’t want to think about – hadn’t thought about for the last two weeks. The only thing keeping him afloat.

Manabe raised an eyebrow. “Are you just saying that because you're pretty?”

“What?” Yuki blinked.

“You don’t want to fall into a stereotype, right?” Manabe asked.

“I _don’t_ like boys,” Yuki repeated. Tried to sound like he knew that for a fact. But he was distracted –“You called me pretty.”

It was Manabe’s turn to go pink. He scratched his ear, looking up. “Well - you are.”

“Are you?”

“Pretty?” Manabe tilted his head to one side like a dog, and flashed one of his irritating smiles. “What do you think, Yun-Yun?”

Yuki found himself leaning closer. Found his voice was low. “I think you're avoiding the question.”

“Alright - okay –” Manabe held up his hands, as though he was in surrender. He huffed, and pushed his bangs off his face. “I'm bi-curious, alright? I said as much – and I didn't want to say because you seemed all weird about it “

“Why wouldn't I be?” Yuki’s voice was strained. And the hot feeling was getting worse. There was a prickle on the back of his neck and his collar felt tight – way too tight.

“Well – I don't _know_ whether I fancy boys, alright?” Manabe let his bangs flop back into place, looking just as bothered. He sounded irritated – and it was the first time Yuki had heard him like that. “I know enough to know when someone is attractive. Now stop putting it all on me.”

Yuki opened his mouth – to say that he obviously wasn’t. But no sound came out. This was what he had been pushing aside. What he hadn’t been able to bare saying because – it sent him back. Made his cheeks feel hotter and hotter and even though it was still bright out he felt like he couldn’t _see_. Like there was black around the edges – like he wasn’t seeing the fence and the school roof and Manabe.

Like he was back. In the dark. And he couldn’t breathe – everything was too hot and his voice wouldn’t come out. It had strained so much and now it wasn’t working.

“I can't,” he managed to gasp out. It was dark. And there was shouting. And panic seized his chest – seized all of him.

“Hm?” Manabe’s voice was even more distant.

He felt his knees hit the concrete, but he felt very far away from his body.

Akito’s voice was in his ears – yelling – because Akito would go into a temper and scream at him. Would shake him and hit out blindly and he was small – so small and he couldn’t –

The wire was cutting into Yuki’s hand. It stung – and he wondered if he was gripping it hard enough to bleed.

“Not –” He shook his head because every time – every instance words had been thrown at him and palms had landed on him was culminating and no – no – this was what he couldn’t think about. “I can't.”

“Yun?” He heard Manabe. Saw his trainers step closer, and then saw the rest of him appear as he crouched down in front of him. “Yuki – is this a panic attack?”

He couldn't nod or shake his head because he didn't know. He didn't know there was a word for this. This thing that happened when those memories resurfaced. They sat dormant under the surface for most of the time and he was good at turning away from their fins. But they were sharks. And now they were charging at him. And it didn’t matter if Manabe was right because he couldn’t talk. He couldn’t breathe – the air was like knives in his lungs. And he could hear Akito – only Akito.

But he did know that Manabe needed to get away from him - and fast - because surely he was about to transform. He recognised the curling in his gut – the feeling of every one of his nerves being electrified.

“Kakeru-kun –” He looked up, because in the darkness swimming at the edges of his vision, he could see honey eyes looking at him with concern.

“Do you want me to stay?” Manabe asked, his hands hovering over Yuki’s shoulders.

A hand on his shoulder. Tight. Another hand hitting out at him whilst Akito raged.

Yuki managed to shake his head, his hair sticking to his cheeks, even though his fingers found the front of Manabe’s shirt. Tightened without his say so.

“You...” Manabe stared at him as Yuki shook his head desperately – tried to find the words to tell him to leave and the willpower to let him go. “You don’t want me to look?”

That was it. Somehow Manabe had guessed it exactly.

Yuki didn’t have time to be amazed. There was a lightning bolt inside of him and when it struck he would transform. He nodded, his throat on fire.

“Alright.” Manabe touched his shoulders. Just lightly. Then he stood, and crossed the roof, talking so gently – like he was dealing with a small child having a tantrum. And Yuki felt like he was. “I'm going to close this door but I'm going to stay right on the other side of it. And I'm going to talk to you, and you don’t need to respond but if you follow what I’m saying then this will be over quickly, alright?”

“Mm.” Yuki closed his eyes, and it sent him all the way back. He was small. Very small and he didn’t understand why Akito was screaming. Why his looks were a bad thing. Why Akito was hitting him.

He opened his eyes. And he was – actually – very small. The world was huge and he was tiny.

“Yuki?” Manabe’s voice called from the other side of the door. “I know the last thing you can do is breathe – but I need you to try for me.”

It felt as though he had no energy. The door – and Manabe – was very far away. And all he wanted to do was curl him and hide. He was in a bundle of his own clothes – still warm – and there was no way he could carry them to the door with him. No way he could sit against it to hear Manabe better.

So he stayed still. And tried to fill his tiny lungs with air but the air was so cold and a rat’s heart beat so fast. Three hundred or four hundred beats a minute – he’d heard Hatori say that.

“I need you to breathe in for four seconds – okay? I’ll count it,” Manabe’s voice called. And did. And Yuki tried to take a shaking breath. “And then you’re going to hold it for seven seconds – I’ll count that out too.” But seven seconds seemed like a very long time. This may work for humans – but maybe not for a rat. The thought added more panic to the explosion in his chest – what if he had to go to Hatori? His head pounded as though the air he held in his mouth had found its way there. “And then you’re going to breath out for eight seconds, alright?”

It was hard work. It felt almost impossible. Irritating – Manabe was irritating with this counting. With his calmness and control of the situation.

But then, at least one of them was in control. And focusing on Manabe’s voice – struggling with the stupid breathing and thinking that _he_ was stupid because he was the reason they were in this mess in the first place. With all of the lies and the questions and –

The darkness was fading away. And slowly the air stopped feeling so sharp in his throat. And Manabe was still counting. How long had it been since he started counting?

He’d stayed all this time, even though Yuki hadn’t said a word back.

The air was suddenly chill against his bare skin. Skin. Instead of fur. The world wasn’t so huge now. He could breathe and the memories were back where they belonged. His skin still tingled – the palms of his hands and across his cheeks felt as though they had pin pricks all over them.

“Yuki?” Manabe called.

He stood on unsteady legs and frantically searched through his clothes. His hands trembled on zippers and buttons and had it always been this cold out here?

“I’m alright,” he called back, even though he was puffing again with the effort of getting dressed. “Just – a sec.”

“Okay,” Manabe called back. And actually sounded – relieved.

Yuki slipped his shoes on, and kept his tie undone as he headed to the door. A shorter distance than he had thought.

Manabe was stood in the hall. Still had a hand up, as Yuki opened it. He’d been leant against it.

Yuki blinked at him, feeling warm all over again, and Manabe blinked back.

“I –” Yuki started doing his tie – for something to distract him. He fumbled with it, feeling clumsy.

“Are you feeling okay?” Manabe asked. Still soft, and gentle, as though Yuki was something that was going to break.

Yuki nodded. He looked up and opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. So he looked down – and tried again – “thank you.”

Manabe didn’t reply. He held out a hand, to the staircase, and they both started down them. In silence. Yuki finished knotting his tie, and it was a messy, but Manabe didn’t mention it. He felt – raw and empty and tired. Like he had just ran a marathon.

His legs were still shaking, and he put his hands in his pockets to hide it. He was older now – he suspected that he knew why Akito had lashed out at him in such a way. That didn’t mean he was ready to acknowledge it.

It had all clicked together so suddenly in his mind but he hadn’t wanted to think. Thinking about any of this made it so – real. Made him acknowledge that Manabe was a _boy_. And they were pretending to be together. And he didn’t hate it. Didn’t hate being close to him – it made his heart race in the way he’d expected it to when he’d hugged Tohru.

And that was – something that he had never considered for himself. Couldn’t consider for himself because he was never supposed to be around other people. Not as friends and certainly not as anything more – girls or boys. The only reason he’d been able to get through it was by ignoring it. For Machi and Tohru – for whoever it was that Manabe kept talking about protecting.

Not thinking was easier. And he wanted to stop thinking now.

But it had been unbottled. And now he –

He couldn’t start that again.

“I'm sorry.” Manabe stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Yuki turned to him. Didn’t know whether to trust his voice but it still came out when he asked, “what?”

Manabe wasn’t looking at him. He had a hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down the corridor. “I'm sorry that there’s something in your past that makes you have panic attacks.” Honey-coloured eyes glanced to Yuki. “It’s why you didn’t want to talk about your childhood, right? It wasn’t a fairy tale at all, was it?”

Yuki shook his head, slowly. And realised this was the second person he had ever admitted that to. The first person who didn’t know about the curse.

Was this even allowed? Did it matter to him anymore – what was allowed, and what wasn’t?

He wet his lips, and tried to change the subject. “How do you know how to...?”

“Machi gets them,” Manabe said. He took a breath and his shoulders rose as he did. “A lot.”

“Oh.” Yuki didn’t know that.

“She might explain it to you one day,” Manabe caught up with him. Kept walking through the empty corridors – everyone would be gone now. “You two are getting close. It’s nice.”

“It is.” Maybe the panic attack had short-circuited Yuki’s brain, because he continued, in a soft voice. “I like spending time with you,” he quickly added, “Both of you, I mean.”

Manabe smiled. He nudged Yuki with his elbow and matched his soft voice. “Good. I knew as soon as I saw you, that you’d make a good company.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Because you can annoy me to no end?”

“Absolutely.” Manabe nudged him again. Then he shook his head. “Because you always looked – doleful.”

“Doleful?”

“Especially in first year. Things changed, when you started hanging out with Miss Honda, but it was still there. A…dolefulness.”

“I’m sure that’s not a word.”

“But you’re smiling.” Manabe elbowed him again, and Yuki ducked his chin to hide his face. Manabe unhooked it – Yuki let himself by guided to meet honey eyes. There was something soft in Manabe’s expression. “And that means that my work here is done.”

Yuki actually chuckled. Even though he felt drained and half-dead and trodden on – he chuckled.

“You sound like some kind of superhero.” He turned away. Hoped his cheeks were pink instead of bright red – it was all he could ask for. Nudged Manabe back.

“Definitely – and my mission is to make you smile, Yuki Sohma.” Manabe leant forward – and poked Yuki’s cheek. He should have shied away. Should have pushed him away and snapped at him. But instead, he rolled his eyes.

This was different. This was different to how it was with Tohru. This made him feel like he was full of bubbles and he wasn’t scared – he wasn’t scared to use Manabe’s first name, or touch him or – let him see just what a mess Yuki Sohma really was.

Tohru knew. But that was – different.

“You know,” Manabe said. “If you want to stop – this – we can.”

Yuki stopped. There were in the doorway now, and chill air was coming through as he held it open.

“What about you?” he asked. “What will those girls do if we stop?”

“You worried about me?”

“No,” Yuki lied. He crossed his arms over his chest and leant against the door. “I’m worried about me. You think they’ll ever let me out of my sight if I get my heart broken from you?”

“Are you saying you’d be broken hearted without me?” Manabe looked up from behind his bangs, pouting slightly.

And Yuki found himself pouting back. “Absolutely.”

He pushed through the doors – finally – and shook his head as he left. This was ridiculous. But now that he wasn’t dead, he felt – silly. And he could be silly with Manabe.

“What was it you said? If you love something set it free?” Manabe caught up with him.

“If it comes back its yours,” Yuki said. “And if it doesn’t, then it was never was.”

“Huh.” Manabe scratched the back of his neck, his eyes to the sky. He sighed, just for a moment looking morose. But then the grin was back – “you want a lift home?”

Yuki shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

Manabe nodded.

And had to admit he was relieved. He wanted the walk home to himself. A lot had happened, and he was still reeling from it. There were a lot of emotions twisting around themselves inside him, and if today was any indication, he needed to start sorting through them.

He needed to figure out just how he felt about Kakeru Manabe.

*

Shigure was still working when Kyo and Tohru had gone to bed. Rather, he had just started working, because he had the sleep schedule of an owl.

He looked up when Yuki leant against the door frame, his arms folded over his chest. As though that would shield him from the inevitable storm this conversation would turn into.

“It’s not often I see you darkening my doorway, anymore.” Shigure barely glanced up at him, as he wrote – oddly carefully, for him – on the paper in front of him.

“I fixed my sleep schedule,” Yuki replied. He hadn’t – not really – not when he was staying up half the night thinking and worrying anyway. But their lives now were a far cry from the muddle it used to be. Of ordering take-out or going to a restaurant whenever they felt like it – always a little too late to be having dinner – and spending half the night sat up, working in silence. The days before Tohru and routine.

“So, what brings you here now?” Shigure asked.

Yuki didn’t want to hesitate. “You know Akito better than most.”

A pause, then, as Shigure set the page he was working on to one side. “I do.”

“Does he like men?”

Shigure stopped. He didn’t look up at Yuki and his dark hair in front of his face, but his mouth twitched.

“Why do you ask?” His voice was quiet.

“It came up.” Yuki pressed his fingers against his ribs and concentrated on the pain to stop himself from focusing on the memories.

Shigure looked up, and there was a line between his eyebrows. “Akito didn’t ever…”

“No–thing like that.” Yuki squeezed himself. Remembered Manabe’s voice telling him to breathe. Managed to explain in as few a words as he needed about the words that were thrown at him when Akito was in a particularly foul mood. The words that he hadn’t understood back then but he knew the meaning of as he grew up. Suspected now, that it was something Akito was insecure about.

Something that Yuki was now insecure about.

“This is about school, isn’t it?” Shigure asked, and it wasn’t the question that Yuki had started this conversation with. “Tohru told me. She seemed very happy for you.”

“And I can only assume that you passed the news on.” There was an edge to Yuki’s voice. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that his existence here relied on Shigure reporting back to main house. He had heard the late-night phone conversations often enough; listening at the top of the stairs to Shigure confirming if Yuki was still small and scared.

“I didn’t.” Shigure tapped the end of his pen to his lips. His eyes were half-lidded and in the dim light of his study, he looked more like a wolf than a man. “I had a guess that you wouldn’t want the whole family knowing.”

“No.”

“It’s certainly a loophole, isn’t it?” Shigure continued.

Yuki found himself offended – on Manabe’s behalf. His cheeks were hot again and he frowned at Shigure. And something clicked into place.

“You –”

“Yes. I’ve been with men too.”

Yuki wasn’t surprised. But hearing it out loud made him feel – comforted. That was something he couldn’t think about too much, but at least – if he was – then he wouldn’t be alone.

But he hated the word loophole. It niggled at him. Made him into something even more selfish than he was.

“That’s not why –”

“Of course not.” Shigure’s dark eyes flicked over to him. His smile was wider, and there was something strange in his voice as he asked Yuki, “are you happy? With him?”

Everyone was asking him that. Everyone was asking if he was happy and he was lying.

Or was he? He’d admitted today – he enjoyed Manabe’s company.

So he thought he was telling the truth when he said, “yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): It's MY fruits basket fic and I get to choose how much stress is required for someone to transform.  
> The conversation about the culture festival was actually one of the first ones I had written for this fic...I think that was at the end of season 1...I had it sitting around a long time lol  
> My mind was going along the track of Akito feels insecure about (spoilers, I don't think the anime has got there yet, but I'm behind) -> tendency to direct queer slurs at Yuki, who doesn't understand, but internalises them, so when he finds out what they mean, struggles with his own identity. I thought I'd make it clear.  
> This chapter also made me realise that Yuki and Shigure have an interesting relationship. I'd love to explore what it was like for Yuki when he first moved in with him, but I don't think this fic is the place for that. Maybe one day :') (I do have a parental Kyo and Kazuma fic though >u>)  
> Anyway - thank you all so so much for the comments and support! It means the world to me and makes me really glad that I'm sharing this fic! If I don't reply, it's because I can only say thank you <3 xxxx  
> See you next week xx


	6. 6

6

“Do you two know any good date spots?” Uotani asked.

Yuki jumped, slightly, when he realised that she was talking to him. Him and Manabe, who looked just as startled. The question had come out of the blue, really. The girls had just been talking, when she had turned to them.

“Ah,” Yuki said. “No.”

Uotani sighed, lacing her hands behind her head. “You two don’t go on too many dates, huh?”

“We do,” Manabe said, quickly. He was sat so close to Yuki that their arms were pressed against each other as they ate lunch. On the roof. After the incidence a few days ago, it felt as though _their_ place was being intruded on. “It’s just – normally after school. The park and stuff.”

“Ugh.” Uotani rolled her eyes. “Boring.”

“Maybe you could go on a double date,” Hanajima said. There was a smile at the corner of her mouth, as she added. “With Kyo and Tohru.”

“I’m not going on any date with Yuki!” Kyo snapped – before Yuki could even object. “And I’m not – I’m not dating Tohru!”

“Why is that the thing you said second, huh?” Uotani leant over to Kyo, grinning.

The teasing kicked off for real. With Kyo shouting – as he always did – Uotani and Hanajima making obviously Kyo-bait remarks – and Tohru trying to diffuse the situation before she blushed and stammered herself to death. That left Momiji giggling in the corner and Hatsu Haru picking his moment to add to the teases.

Manabe chuckled next to Yuki. “There’s never a dull moment, here.”

“No.” Yuki smiled slightly, because he did like this liveliness, as much as it drained him. He liked seeing people he cared about happy.

“What do you think? About a date with Tohru and Kyo?”

Yuki wrinkled his nose, looking over at Kyo, who scowled back at him. It only made Manabe laugh.

“Maybe not then,” he said.

And Yuki was about to say that Tohru was Manabe’s rival – even if he didn’t think it was true – but he knew that it would annoy him – when he heard whispers behind him.

“Is that true? Does the Prince not go on dates?”

It was a girl’s voice. His heart sunk when he realised that there was a group of the fanclub sat behind them.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t – after the way he blew up at Minagawa-senpai.”

“It can’t be that serious.”

“That, or Manabe-kun doesn’t care that much about the Prince.”

“Poor Minagawa-senpai.”

“Let’s go this Sunday, Yun-Yun,” Manabe said, suddenly, and loudly. His eyes caught Yuki’s and it was obvious that he had heard the girls too.

Which meant Yuki had no choice. “Ah – sure.” The others were looking at them, and he ducked his head, letting his hair fall forward to block him and Manabe off. “Not to the movies though.”

“Mm.” Manabe took a mouthful of his lunch, looking up. “Yuki’s phobia of T.V returns.”

“I just – don’t need to see any more of Mogeta.”

“But Mogeta is amazing!” Manabe cried. A grain of rice fell from his chopsticks. He was like a shocked child, and Yuki bit his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

“I like it!” Momiji said.

“Me too!” That was Tohru, with Uotani’s arm around her shoulders as she smiled.

“You two would,” Kyo muttered.

Manabe nudged Yuki with his elbow. Smiled and it felt like that smile wasn’t for the others – wasn’t for the fan club girls.

“We’ll go to dinner,” Manabe said. “Just the two of us, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Manabe tilted his head to one side, his eyes glinting. “You’ve gone all shy.”

“Shut up.” Yuki’s cheeks felt like they were burning, even though Uotani had started another conversation with Tohru and Hanajima and Momiji was talking to Kyo. He still knew Hatsu Haru was watching, and his words – that Manabe wasn’t who he’d pick for Yuki – echoed.

“It’s cute.” Manabe leant forward slightly, still smiling like it was just them.

“I said shut up.” Yuki turned away, sharply, because his cheeks were very warm now.

“You’re meant to be getting better at being called cute.” Manabe’s voice seemed to follow him.

“Well, I’m not wearing a dress for you,” he said.

“Oh!” Uotani broke off from their conversation to grin at them. “That was a riot.”

“No,” Hanajima said, quietly. Her dark eyes were on him. “Yuki-kun had some very low vibes that day.”

“Vibes?” Manabe echoed.

“Hana-chan senses waves,” Tohru said, as though it was a simple and everyday thing. Then again, Hana was not the weirdest person sat here.

“Ah.” Manabe scratched his ear.

“Dinner sounds good,” Yuki said, all too aware of how strange his friends were. How strange they were and how normal Manabe was. So he’d spoken loudly, and quickly, to try and change the subject.

But was Manabe so normal? He’d mentioned a stiff upbringing before – and Machi had panic attacks – so did that mean there was more to him than Yuki thought?

Manabe smiled at him, though he didn’t miss his gaze slipping beyond Yuki. To the fanclub girls. To make sure they were still watching.

“Meet in town just after twelve?” Manabe asked. “We can wander around until we’re hungry.”

Yuki found himself nodding – what else could he do, when everyone was looking at them – and saw Manabe’s smile widen. He didn’t have a choice. Whether he wanted to or not, he was spending his Sunday with Kakeru Manabe.

And he wasn’t annoyed by that. In fact, it didn’t sound so bad.

*

Yuki waited at the bike station in town on Sunday. He’d walked into town, but had expected Manabe to cycle in.

And he was right. He appeared – ten minutes late, but still grinning. It was – odd- to see him outside of his uniform. In normal jeans, and an open button down shirt over a black tee. But the dark green suited him.

He had a goofy grin on his face as he swung off of his bike.

“What?” Yuki crossed his arms.

Manabe shrugged. “Not so different to your uniform, huh?”

He meant that Yuki was still wearing white. He hadn’t really payed attention to what he was wearing, but he realised now that most of his clothes were light coloured. With buttons down the front. Just like the Summer uniform. Even his jumper was the same navy blue as at school.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “It’s your fault we’re here in the first place.”

“Those girls overheard.” Manabe finished chaining his bike up. He nudged Yuki with his elbow as he came up to him. “This is good. It sells that we’re a real couple.”

“You could have lied.”

“They would have come looking for us.” Manabe watched Yuki for a moment, grinning as he tried to stammer out an excuse. Then he shook his head, laughing. “Come on, it’ll be a fun Sunday out.”

It wasn’t too terrible, Yuki supposed. He followed Manabe’s lead around the shops, as he popped into look at CDs in one place and video games in another. He poured over albums from bands Yuki had never heard of – and when he mentioned that he was dragged over to the headphones and made to listen. Even though he protested, Manabe held the headphones in place over his ears, grinning at him until he found himself smiling back. It wasn’t his sort of music at all – it was loud with too many guitars and too much drums – but he didn’t hate it. Not when there was warmth in his chest. Fun. He was having ordinary fun on an ordinary day with a friend.

There was something about listening to Manabe babble about video games that Yuki wasn’t familiar with that made him smile. And there was such passion in his voice – about these things that weren’t real and didn’t really matter. It was like Kisa timidly explaining out an anime she liked to Tohru. It _meant_ something to them and that seemed like a wonderful thing.

Or maybe he could just listen to Manabe talk about anything. Because people turned around to raise eyebrows at him and Yuki should have been embarrassed by that, but for some reason, he wasn’t.

“Come on,” Manabe said, swinging the plastic bag with his latest purchases. “I’ve chosen the last two places, Yun-Yun. It’s your turn.”

“Do you have to call me that in private too?” Yuki asked. Only because he was getting used to it and he was forgetting to be annoyed by it.

Manabe nodded, looking meaningfully to one side. Yuki glanced over, and saw three girls huddled by a sunglasses display. Watching them. He couldn’t see them clearly, but he just _knew_. And his heart sunk.

A not so average day, then.

“I bet you’d love a visit to the library, huh?” Manabe asked.

“I have enough studying at home, thank you.”

“Where, then?” Manabe pressed. He slung his arm around Yuki’s shoulders, pulling them together. And he saw a fanclub girl’s mouth gape at the brazenness. “There must be somewhere you want to go.”

“Well…” Yuki hesitated. It was something that he’d only told Tohru. A secret. And yet – even though Manabe didn’t know everything – he knew a lot. He knew _enough_.

“You can tell me.”

“The gardening shop,” Yuki muttered. He’d turned his head away from Manabe, as if that would make it easier to say.

“Come again?”

Yuki tried to say it louder. “The gardening shop.” And then, because he could already see Manabe raising an eyebrow, continued, “I grow my own food – and I need some more seeds.”

He’d expected Manabe to laugh. Or tease him. Instead, he simply said, “cool. Let’s go.”

“What? No quip?”

“You grow your own food,” Manabe said. He was steering Yuki in the direction of the shop – he should really duck out from under his arm. “That’s cool.”

Cool. It certainly wasn’t. Video games and music were cool. Yuki found himself put out by the lack of teasing. And once they were in the shop, Manabe left Yuki to it. Left him to quietly peer at the new tools the place had in. To stare at each of the different seeds until he picked the few packets that he needed.

They slipped them into the same bag. Something about that just seemed to confirm it. They were shopping _together_.

As soon as they were out, Manabe made a show of stretching.

“I’m _starving_!” His voice was loud. Made people look around at him. It was like an explosion – like he had been holding back from being annoying all around the shop, and now he couldn’t control it.

“Food?” Yuki asked. Because those fanclub girls had reappeared by a different shop now. Definitely following. Hopefully wouldn’t know that gardening was Yuki’s hobby.

“Food.” Manabe nodded.

They headed upstairs. Up to the food court, and managed to talk about school. The upcoming field trips and their plans for it. There weren’t a lot of options – but there was the place he’d been to with Tohru. The tables had some privacy and the food was good. He decided on there, and this time, Manabe followed him.

Again – it was nice. He had to admit that this was nice. That Manabe’s cheerfulness was not so different to Tohru’s. That his teasing was just like Hatsu Haru’s. That Yuki liked spending time with Manabe.

Why else would he feel so warm inside? Would it feel like there were butterflies trapped in there when Manabe grinned, or laughed? It was something that he was noticing, the more time they spent together. The more he saw more of the many layers of Manabe.

He supposed that he was just the same. But he had reasons for being a many-layered thing.

It seemed sad that Manabe would too. As though nothing could be simple. Everything annoying and cheerful was hiding something that would change the way they were seen.

They’d fallen into silence, now. Now that they had finished talking about school trips and were picking at the yakisoba in front of them. It had fried quickly, and they had served it on two dishes without asking each other.

Then Manabe leant across. “The fan club girls are there.”

Yuki knew. He had heard their excited giggles as they had followed the two of them in. Had seen them sit at a table where they could see them. Had heard them whispering about how well they thought the date was going – about what they were talking about.

It was really starting to piss him off. That he couldn’t have anything to himself. Not a Sunday off with a friend.

“I noticed,” he said.

“Then smile?” Manabe tapped the corner of his mouth as he did. “You're on a date with someone you're supposed to like.”

“Right.” Yuki tried to. He thought it came out as more of a grimace. He couldn’t smile – not on command.

“And maybe we should talk?”

“What about?”

“I don’t know,” Manabe said. “You don’t watch T.V.”

Yuki did smile, then, but it had an edge to it. “And that's all you can think to discuss?”

“No. I'd love to ask you questions.” Manabe took a chopstick full of Soba. “So many questions about your life. But you won’t talk about that.”

“Will you?”

There was a silence. They stared at each other, both with small, polite smiles frozen on their faces. A game – it was always like they were playing a game with each other.

“A question each,” Manabe said. Suggested. “And if you feel a panic attack coming, you can tap out.”

“Was that really what it was?” Yuki asked, before he could help himself.

“I guessed that's what was happening.” Manabe was watching him, seriously. “You didn’t know?”

“I knew that it happened,” Yuki admitted to the table. Noodles hung from his chopsticks, quivering slightly. “I didn’t know that there was a name for it. That it happened to other people.”

It was probably a silly thing to think. That most people were sick at the prospect of visiting their childhood home.

“It happens to a lot of people,” Manabe said. “People who've gone through trauma.”

“Trauma,” Yuki repeated. Even though he knew they were being watched, this felt very private. The wooden screens helped, of course, but they were speaking quietly. About private things, and the light in the rest of the restaurant seemed brighter than the one over them.

“A question each?” Manabe leant forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. His dark honey eyes caught the soft yellow glow of the light above them. “And I won’t give you a panic attack.”

“Promise?” Yuki smiled – being teasing and light hearted was easier than being serious. He put his chopsticks down.

Manabe smiled back. “Promise. You can even start.”

“Why do you hide your serious side?” Maybe Yuki should have pretended to think about it, but it had been at the back of his mind since Manabe had suggested questions. He knew what he wanted to ask.

“Hm?” Manabe’s eyes glinted and there was still a small curve to his lips. Like this was a game to him.

“You're bubbly and happy go lucky but every so often your guard slips.” The words came out before Yuki could stop them. “You're more serious than you make out you are.”

“Everyone has to be serious sometimes,” Manabe said. He leant back on his hands. “I'm not going to act happy when you're struggling to breathe. People aren’t two dimensional Yuki.”

That last bit sounded like a scold. A light one, but a small chatise all the same.

Yuki’s cheeks warmed. He poked at the noodles still on his plate, flipping a shrimp over. “I know. But it's different with you.”

“Why’s that?” Manabe tilted his head like a puppy, smiling in earnest now, and Yuki felt his stomach quiver. There was something there – something behind the curiosity – enjoyment?

“Is that your question?” Yuki deflected. It was something that he definitely could not think of the answer to – even though a part of him already knew.

“Is that yours?” Manabe countered, and at Yuki’s pause, grinned wider, so that he looked like a Cheshire cat. “Yes – my question is ‘why’s that?’ Why am I so different?”

“Because nothing should bother you.” He wasn’t thinking about it – but for some reason his mouth was giving his mind away. “It's a blessing not to be bothered by things.”

“Be apathetic you mean.” Manabe was sober, now. Like Yuki had passed some test to prove this wasn’t a game. “That's a curse. Do you want to not be bothered by anything?”

Yuki knew a thing or two about curses and being bothered by them. He knew that without that – he would have been a lot happier. Wouldn’t be prone to panic attacks.

“Yes,” he said.

“Life would be boring.”

“Life would hurt less.”

“And how could you enjoy things if you've never been hurt?” Manabe was quick. He wasn’t leaning back on his hands anymore. His elbows were on the table, and he was leaning forwards. A mirror image of Yuki.

“That's what people say to make themselves feel better.” He couldn’t hide the disdain in his voice. It had always seemed a cheap excuse to him.

“Maybe that's the only way they can accept pain.”

“So, my point stands.”

Manabe shook his head. His dark hair, where it curled behind his ears, looked very dark against his skin. Yuki found his gaze caught there, for just a moment, before he returned to meeting Manabe’s gaze. His heart was beating quickly. When had that happened?

Because they were playing word games. Trying to be smart. Revealing too much of themselves in the process.

“You wouldn't be you if you didn’t care,” Manabe said. His voice was low, but full of conviction. “About your friends. Even about the fan club girls’ feelings.”

He paused, examining Yuki’s face. This was usually where he ducked his chin – hid the features that everyone called cute or feminine or pretty. Ducked behind hair that he cut himself – as messily as possible – to try to counteract that. But he couldn’t look away now. It was only fair – Yuki was staring at Manabe – why shouldn’t it work the other way around?

“You hide this part of you,” Manabe said, eventually.

It wasn’t a question, but he didn’t think they were playing _that_ game anymore. This was something different. Something that cut below the surface. Where Tohru had cut without realising and maybe that’s why it was easier to return there now.

Was Manabe like Tohru? Was that why he could admit this?

“Because I don’t like this part of me,” he replied.

“I do.” And that wasn’t something Tohru would say. She would be sorry that Yuki felt that way. Would want to change it. “It’s truthful. Much more truthful than you are at school.”

Yuki shook his head. Just slightly. Just so his hair shifted. “I wouldn't be very popular if I acted like this there.”

“Does it matter?” Manabe was leaning closer now. And Yuki still couldn’t find it in him to pull away. “Popularity?”

“No.” Was he saying that because he believed it or because he wanted Manabe to like him? “But that’s not it.”

It was about choosing how he was seen. Choosing to move away from what he didn’t like. Choosing to be accepted.

“Those girls are a hindrance.” Manabe jerked his head to where they were. The tiniest amount. And they were almost definitely staring at them now, but Yuki couldn’t feel their gaze. It was just them. In a little bubble with cooling noodles on the table. “Why should you pander to them?”

“Because it's a nice thing to do.” That was because he believed it. 

“Because you care.”

“Because I want to be nice,” Yuki said. “I want to be kind. To grow. And keep growing until I'm happy with the way I am.”

Manabe leant his chin on one hand. “That's noble.”

“That's Miss Honda’s influence.” Yuki was being truthful.

Manabe paused. His eyes were half lidded, but still scrutinising. He leant further into his hand.

“I can’t compare, huh?” he asked.

Yuki smiled. “No one can.” Tohru Honda was one of a kind, but that didn’t mean she was the only one.. “But you shouldn't be like her. You're you.”

“What's good about me?” Manabe was smiling, but he sounded wary. And that was a rare thing.

“That you care so much about someone that you’d break up with your girlfriend to pretend to date me.”

Manabe’s lips twitched, and he took his head away from his palm. “You still haven’t figured it out.”

Yuki ignored him – he continued onwards. “That you fill a room with energy and control chaos. That you make anyone smile if you wear them down long enough. That you're generous and thoughtful and –”

“And?” Manabe’s eyebrow rose.

“You're my friend.” Yuki’s cheeks were hot – very hot – from acknowledging just how much he’d grown to like Kakeru Manabe – and _admitting_ it to him. But he didn’t turn away.

“You're mine.” Manabe’s eyes were soft. He was leaning closer now.

No, he was still leaning – and now their faces were close. Close enough that his face blurred and Yuki could feel a warm breath on his skin.

“I thought you said no –”

Manabe’s lips pressed against Yuki’s cheek. Just for a moment. And then he pulled away, leaving Yuki’s skin tingling in a small, round spot. Left him feeling like his mind had fried – like he only had sparks there.

“To keep the fanclub at bay,” Manabe said, and even as he did, Yuki thought he could hear squealing. “Don’t look so shocked – we’re a couple, aren’t we?”

Yuki tried not to. Tried to blink away his wide eyes and warm cheeks. Tried to get rid of the flurry of butterflies that had appeared in his stomach. His cheek tingled.

“You said no kisses.” His voice was numb.

“On the _mouth_.” Manabe blinked at him, innocently. “Did I not specify that?”

Yuki shook his head. Tried not to look so shocked, but his heart was running off without him.

“You still haven’t figured out why I started this, hm?” Manabe repeated.

“It was for Miss Kuragi.”

“Partly.”

“And Kimi?” That was the only other girl Yuki could think of.

“No, she can take care of herself,” Manabe said with a bark of laughter. He tilted his head the other way, and had the air of someone guiding a small child to a simple task. “Someone else the Fanclub was bothering.”

A very small voice in Yuki knew the answer. It knew the answer but he silenced it because – no – _no_. It would open up so many things and he wasn’t ready.

So he chose to raise an eyebrow and ask, “President Takei?” instead.

“Hah.” Manabe’s smile wasn’t amused. “No.”

“Manabe,” Yuki said. And he sounded pleading.

“You called me Kakeru. The other day.” His hand was close to Yuki’s on the table. So close.

“I wasn’t –” Yuki could only look at their hands. He felt frozen – trapped. All of the feelings that he’d been pushing down were threatening to come to the surface, and he couldn’t – he couldn’t do this. Be here. Have this conversation. Acknowledge everything swelling up like a balloon in him.

Manabe stopped. He stayed still, with a look in his eye as if he were following a deer. As if Yuki was a small, scared creature that he was trying to get close to.

“We won’t talk about it,” he said.

Yuki watched Manabe’s hand start to slide away. He did it without thinking – put his hand over the top.

“Thank you,” he managed to get out. Watching – almost transfixed – as Manabe’s wrist twisted – so that their palms lay against each other instead. It was a simple movement – and it wasn’t as if they hadn’t touched like this before. But now it felt different.

It felt different because Yuki’s stomach was doing its best to reject the noodles he’d just eaten. And he couldn’t figure out if that meant one thing – or another. Both were as scary.

“This was nice,” Manabe said. His thumb rubbed against Yuki’s skin, and it seemed to tingle. “We should do this again.”

“Because we’re both different?”

“A good kind of different.” Manabe smiled. He rested his cheek in his other hand. “And because you still haven’t come around to watch T.V with me.”

Yuki ignored whatever was happening inside him in favour of rolling his eyes. “Spare me.”

“Or we could go to your garden?” Manabe must have seen something on Yuki’s face, because he quickly added. “Or is it a secret?”

“It’s a secret.” Yuki’s fingers squeezed Manabe’s – without really thinking about it. “You can’t tell anyone at school.”

“I’ll add it to the list.” Manabe laughed – and it was his regular, carefree laugh. The kind that made Yuki think of non-existent sunny days. “As long as we can do something like this again, yeah?”

A couple of weeks ago, that would have seemed like the worst thing in the world to Yuki. And maybe it still was, because being with Manabe made him feel jumbled up – a mess – but for some reason he still wanted to. Still enjoyed _some_ part of it.

So he nodded. Squeezed Manabe’s fingers again – and felt a spark all the way through his arm as he did – said, “okay.”

And he wasn’t sure if that was part of the fake-relationship part or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I don't really have any notes for this chapter...like I like it, it just speaks for itself, I think.  
> But I will say thank you so so so much for the reviews!!! They really mean the world and they're why I keep writing fic! If I don't reply, it's because I can only say thank you!!! And don't want to spam your emails with it. <3  
> So yeah do leave thoughts and I'll see you next week xx


	7. 7

7

Manabe’s eyes were stuck in Yuki’s mind. Dark honey eyes softening and glistening at him. His eyes and his hand over Yuki’s. If he focused, he could almost feel it again. It made his skin tingle. His cheek too. Manabe’s lips had been fleeting – but had been there long enough for him to know they had been soft.

And to know that he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of that again.

It was a black hole – thinking like that. He lay on his bed the next morning – very early, because he had woken with the sun, and now he couldn’t get back to sleep because he was thinking about Kakeru Manabe.

Because what did it mean if he wanted another date – if he wanted Manabe to kiss him, even if it was only on cheek – again? Did he want to kiss – properly kiss? Regardless of if fan-club girls were watching?

Yuki ran the back of his hand over his mouth, as though it would wipe the thoughts away, and looked at his curtains. They drifted slightly in a low breeze.

He knew what it meant. In theory. But acknowledging he had any feelings – at all – for Manabe – meant acknowledging the implication that went along with it. Meant remembering the names hurled at him – words he hadn’t understood then, but understood now and knew that if it was ever found out – then he would be right back where he started. And Akito would be even less in control.

And yet – he forced himself to breathe – it was what everyone thought already. Kyo, Momiji and Hatsu-Haru would never tell, but they believed that. It’s what Shigure thought, and kept to himself. Did it matter they were wrong? It was a dangerous game, but Yuki had known that when they started this. Being with Tohru was dangerous enough.

Being with Tohru was wiping away his fear.

Seeing everyone’s reactions to him and Manabe – everyone who he cared deeply about, anyway, softened the memories too. Made him realise that it wasn’t him, it wasn’t anything to do with him and that it wasn’t so bad. Not for him to be –

Yuki pressed the heel of his hand against his eye, until it hurt, and sighed. Emotions. Exactly the thing he’d been avoiding all this time. And now it was turning him into a mess.

Stupid Kakeru Manabe. With his bright smile and dark eyes. His understanding and patience compared to his cockiness and teasing.

He rolled over, and continued to push the feelings down.

It was fruitless. Now that he had acknowledged it – had opened the lid for just a moment – it was all he could think of. And when he got to school he was terribly _aware_ of Manabe. Of how his heart pounded when he hugged him – it always did, but now he _knew_. _Acknowledged_ it. That it wasn’t just contact – it was –

He was very aware of Manabe’s arm around his shoulders – how, even though they were the same height, he seemed to fit so comfortably under Manabe. How easy it was to put his arm around Manabe’s waist in return – how that felt _right_ , to be entwined, as Manabe answered Uotani’s question about their date.

“It was great, right, Yun-Yun?”

Uotani’s lips twitched upwards at the nickname. Yuki looked away, and ended up meeting the gaze of three fanclub girls.

“Right,” he echoed. Forced himself to smile. “I had fun.”

They were giggling, as they watched the two of them. It looked like the date, and the kiss, had changed them the other way. They had accepted this now, and Yuki thought their acceptance was worse. Yuki and Manabe were their knew favourite yaoi.

All day long, he was aware of _it._ Aware of their linked hands. Aware of Manabe sat close to him, pressed up against him at lunch. He still couldn’t find his footing with the boys Manabe hung out with.

Machi noticed. She asked Yuki if he would help out with something in the student council room, and he followed. They walked in silence. Yuki held the door of the room open for her. Machi rolled her eyes.

She leant against the wall, as Yuki closed the door.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry I chewed you out. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Machi raised an eyebrow. She was tapping her foot against the floor, as though she was impatient. “You’ve been twitchy all day. Like you can’t stand it when Kakeru touches you.”

It was a moment of clarity. A sudden moment where Yuki realised that Machi was the only person who knew – who really knew – everything that was going on. She was the only person he could really talk to about this.

So he leant against the other side of the door and sighed.

“I’m – confused,” he admitted. “I didn’t think – I’m not – this was only meant to be to stop the fanclub girls bothering anyone who spoke to me.”

“Kakeru had a certain person in mind.” Machi’s foot still tapped.

“He said.”

“You don’t know who?”

Yuki stayed quiet. He hung his head, so that his hair covered his face. There was a suspicion. But he couldn’t think that. Already, there had been so much, that thinking that would be the last straw.

“And I’m confused, because – I’m not – I don’t like boys.”

Machi’s voice was the same as always. No-nonsense and straight to the point, and he appreciated that. “Does it matter if you do?”

“In my family.” Yuki glanced at her – and saw her lips twitch.

“I can understand that,” Machi said.

“Manabe-kun said it was a stiff upbringing.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Machi shook her head.

“Try me.”

They stared at each other with serious eyes. Just stared, and let something pass between them. An understanding. Machi understood, at least some of it.

“I don’t know what liking people is like,” Yuki admitted. In a small voice. Because Machi had a familiar look in her eyes. A look he recognised from the mirror.

She shrugged. “I’m not the person to ask. But I’d say if you think you like someone, you probably like them.”

It was a fair point, even if it wasn’t one Yuki wanted to hear. There was a part of him that had wanted Machi to tell him that this didn’t mean anything at all.

“So – what do I do – with that?” he asked, slowly, because even asking the question felt like admitting something he didn’t want to.

Machi put her head on one side, so that her hair slipped off of her shoulder and made a curtain around her. She raised an eyebrow. For a moment, Yuki didn’t think she would answer – it was an obvious question.

But then she said, “ignore it, or act on it.”

The meaning was clear – that this wasn’t something Yuki would be able to ignore. Machi had made it sound so simple and easy. Neither option was.

And yet, Yuki still felt as though he was in the middle of a storm, without anything to hold on to.

*

He held the phone in his hand. It felt a ton heavier than when he had held it last. But maybe – maybe the person he was planning to call – would hold some kind of solace to the storm inside of him.

Because Shigure hadn’t told Akito. And Shigure was friends with –

And he didn’t think he’d ever use the shop number – didn’t think he’d ever make the phone call in the first place. But here he was. Dialling it in and turning to the wall so that it would be harder for the others to hear him.

He waited as the phone rung. His heart beating heavily. Don’t pick up – a part of him wished – don’t pick up. Then he could say that he tried, but there was nothing that he could do.

But then the ringing stopped. And he heard and all too familiar voice.

“Yes?”

Ayame sounded normal. Much more normal than he ever was around Yuki. It was a customer service voice.

“Hi.” Yuki’s voice sounded faint. He could have put the phone down, and it would have been written off as a junk call.

He could still put the phone down now. But he didn’t.

“Yuki!” Ayame’s voice changed immediately. Went back to its normal loudness – normal flamboyance, as if it was all a show put on just to make Yuki’s eyebrow twitch. “To what do I owe this most wondrous pleasure? I can't believe you would reach out to me like this!”

Yuki’s throat was dry. He could hear the buzz of the T.V, Kyo’s deep voice murmuring something.

“I have to ask you something,” he said.

“Anything, dearest little brother!” Ayame sounded delighted. As though Yuki had just announced that he had saved the world. “You know I'm always here for you, no matter what the –”

“But you can't ask me why.” Yuki cut him off. Gripping the phone so tightly that his fingers cramped. “Or ask me - back.”

“What is it?” Just like that, Ayame changed again. Became serious – worried – he sounded worried about Yuki.

“Are you...” Yuki took a breath, but it didn’t seem to help. He swallowed, and tried again. “Are you...do you like men?”

There was a pause. Just a small one. Enough of one to make Yuki feel panic in his chest.

“I thought that was obvious. My aim in life is to let people know just by looking at me that I'm bisexual.”

It felt as though Yuki had been punched in the chest. It took the wind out from him, and then he was suddenly filled with an immense relief. A few weeks ago, it wouldn’t have meant anything. Or maybe it would – but it would be a strange, uncomfortable niggling, like a stone in his shoe, that he would be determined to ignore.

Now he felt as though he was floating. Not alone. There was Hatsu Haru, but Hatsu Haru’s love life wasn’t the simplest. And Ayame was here – an adult – and maybe – maybe the future was not as hopeless as it seemed.

Yuki steadied himself on the table. Drew out another stone that he had been determined to ignore and forced himself to look at it. To ask about it.

“How did you know?”

“It was a dream…” Ayame’s voice was soft. And it was like he knew that Yuki’s finger had immediately gone to the red button. Because that was such a _him_ response – it was idealist and dreamy and not real. At all. Ayame must have known, because he continued – “Don't hang up. It was - I had a dream about a boy in my class. A silly, ineffectual dream, but when I woke up, it made me think. I was scared at first - and tried to tell myself that it wasn't true. That it didn't mean anything. But then I thought about it. And I thought about why I had decided that I couldn't love boys as well as girls. And I realised that all of my reasons were - silly and ineffectual.”

Silly and ineffectual? Was that really it?

Maybe it was, for Ayame. Because his childhood had been so different to Yuki’s. He didn’t have the same feelings to all of this that Yuki did.

And yet – was it such a far cry? Here he was. And this was what he wanted – wasn’t it? Because nothing had gone like Akito had ever told him it would. If he knew that was wrong – he could work on that – he could change that.

The silence was dragging on. Ayame was still on the line.

“I see,” Yuki managed to say. It wasn’t a lie – he was starting to. And the feeling of lightness flowing through him made him feel like something had changed between them. Like Ayame had guessed anyway, but the fact he had answered honestly – that he hadn’t asked back – made him feel a little more of what he had felt on his visit with Tohru. A kind of warmth. “Thank you. For telling me.”

“May I ask just one question?” Ayame asked. The feeling compacted in again – becoming a tight ball ready to implode. “You don't have to answer.”

Yuki took a breath. The second part made him feel safe – safe enough to say. “Okay.”

“Are you alright, Yuki?”

It was a surprise. He blinked.

“Yes,” he said it immediately. And then was surprised to find that he was. Maybe a little bit better. Still a bundle of nerves – but – when wasn’t he? “I'm fine. Thank you.”

“It's a pleasure.” That was genuine. Caring and obviously delighted that Yuki had phoned. “Call anytime, little brother.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Yuki mumbled. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, dearest –”

Yuki cut him off. He put the phone back in its holder. It had felt like it weighed a ton, and now it felt as though there was a ton lifted from his shoulders. It didn’t matter. Not in the way that he’d been told that it mattered.

Machi had said there were two options. He could ignore it, or act on it. So far, he’d been ignoring it – that was what he always did – and it had only made everything so much more difficult to feel his way through.

That meant there was only one thing left.

*

It was clear that Yuki couldn’t continue like this. With all of these butterflies in his stomach when he was around Kakeru Manabe. With the knowledge of exactly how he liked him. The other things – the implication liking Manabe had, and what would happen if they were found out – didn’t matter as much as that.

Because if this had shown Yuki anything, it was that he was selfish. Selfish enough to want this.

The problem – was telling him. It was finding the words and being able to look Manabe in the eye. He couldn’t do it at school – not when they were so often watched. Couldn’t ask for another date, because that would make it a _thing_. It would put pressure on him and would be a recipe to transformation.

For a few days, he still wallowed in his nerves. Might as well, he figured, whilst Manabe didn’t know the truth and was still hugging him and coddling him in a way that he should have hated – but it was different when Manabe was throwing an arm around Yuki. When he was poking his cheek or pulling him close. It made being cute not seem like such an insult. Made him really understand what Tohru had told him, all that time ago.

The opportunity came without warning. Came after a particularly long student council meeting. Where Naohito was adamant about a certain rule being enforced, and Kimi was determined to counteract him at every turn. They argued over everything and now Yuki could see what he and Kyo were like. And Manabe was pressed up against him like a cat out in the sun, which wasn’t helping. And Machi was raising her eyebrows at him every five seconds which _definitely_ wasn’t helping –

By the time they finished up, it was dark outside. Which, Yuki realised, wasn’t as worrying as he thought. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet.

“Guess Summer really is over, huh?” Manabe asked. He had a hand on Yuki’s waist, and it felt so natural now. A shield against the chilly air.

“Yeah,” he said. Naohito and Kimi had already started another argument, as they ran down the school path.

“You want a lift?” Manabe asked. “I have a light on my bike.”

Machi elbowed Yuki. Hard.

“A – alright,” he managed to say, instead of ‘ow.’ He saw her smirking in the white of the security light. Clearly had enough of his jumpy behaviour.

“I’ll pass,” she said, and started after Kimi. “You two lovebirds have fun, though.”

“Oh ha-ha, Machi,” Manabe said. He shook his head, then took his arm away from Yuki. He felt oddly vulnerable without it – crossed his arms to get the feeling of security back, but Manabe peered at him. “You okay?”

Yuki nodded, because he wasn’t. Those dark honey eyes were staring at him and they were alone.

“You look tired, Yun-Yun.”

“And you’re not? After that?” Yuki asked. Found himself smiling like everything was normal.

Manabe laughed. “This is what it’s going to be – all year.”

“I know.”

“I love it.” Manabe’s eyes glittered as they reached the bike shed. There was a security light here, as well – turning the world to blacks and greys. “This is exactly the kind of thing I wanted.”

Yuki rolled his eyes. “Lucky you.”

“Lucky _you_.” Manabe started unchaining it. “To have such a killer council team.”

He laughed, under his breath and shook his head. There was a strange, soft feeling in his stomach, and his fingertips tingled.

Manabe brought the bike over, and swung on. There was a little LED light on the handlebars, that was dim and blinked intermittently.

Yuki swung onto the back, without thinking about it. Found his arms around Manabe and his cheek against his back and when had that felt so easy? His heart was still racing, as Manabe kicked off, but it wasn’t because they were close.

It was because he’d realised this was the perfect time. When he didn’t have to look Manabe in the eye. He was safely hidden on the back of the bicycle.

And yet, that didn’t make it any easier. He rehearsed the words in his head several times as they rode out from the school gates. Simple. Just a sentence.

But he couldn’t imagine what Manabe would say after that. That was the terrifying part.

“Should we go through town?” Yuki asked instead.

“You don’t trust my light?”

“Do you want me to be truthful?”

“Ouch.” Manabe leant back as he laughed. So that Yuki’s chin slipped onto his shoulder. He kept it there, and Manabe didn’t move away.

It started to rain as they cycled. A light drizzle that was a relief against Yuki’s warm face.

They approached the twinkling lights of the town. And Yuki kept quiet – he couldn’t get his mouth to work. And it wasn’t long before the buildings were around them – indigo shapes, lit by the amber streetlights. The light reflected off of the damp pavement, making the concrete look like it was full of stars. They hadn’t quite come out above them, the sky was still a dark blue.

The streets were mostly empty. Too late for anyone to be walking home from school, but too early for workers to be out either. The rain was picking up now, coming down in fat drops.

Manabe’s hair brushed against Yuki’s cheek. Vanilla. He still smelt of vanilla and it was such a nice smell.

They continued on, and Yuki fought to remember what he wanted to say. What he needed to say. Had to say, now, whilst they were alone and Manabe wasn’t looking at him.

He pulled away, slightly, and Manabe glanced back to him. It made the bike swerve, slightly, and Yuki tightened his grip. It made Manabe chuckle, breathlessly, and he ducked his head to catch his breath.

“Why did you start this?” Yuki asked. In a gabble.

It took Manabe a moment to decode that. He spoke slowly, “you know why.”

“I need to hear you say it.” Yuki’s heart was racing – he could feel it in the palms of his hands.

Manabe slowed the bike down. To a stop. They were just coming up to an underpass – the stairs of which had bushes either side. A car came down the road, illuminating Manabe’s dark hair for a moment.

“To get the fanclub girl’s off someone I care about’s back,” he said.

No, his heart wasn’t in the palms of his hands. It was in his mouth, resting on his tongue and it felt as though it was going as fast as when he was a rat.

“I think I know who.” Every word was heavy. His hands were too – they dropped from Manabe’s sides. “But I – I need to hear it – from – from.”

Manabe was still. Yuki couldn’t see his hands on the bars, but the rest of him looked very pale in the evening. He swung off, after a moment, but held a hand on it to keep it steady.

Yuki looked up at him, feeling heavy and awkward still sat on the back of the bike. Manabe’s hair was damp – raindrops caught there sparkling like the stars in the pavement, and a drop ran down his smooth cheek. He was trapped. Trapped in those dark honey eyes that looked so _soft._

“Alright.” Manabe’s voice was barely audible, over the sound of the rain all around them. “It was you. It wanted to protect you from those girls.”

Yuki opened his mouth to ask why, but no sound came out. He was burning – burning and his heart was racing – it was going so fast he thought he might explode. Him. It was him.

Manabe seemed to get his meaning, all the same, because he continued, looking down at their shoes.

"Because I - I really like you, Yuki Sohma.”

He should have realised what was coming, in hindsight. Should have recognised the feeling. Should have guessed that this – with all the nerves and panic involved – the last days of turmoil – would have triggered it.

But he hadn’t.

In a moment, he was falling. Getting ready to hit the pavement hard and to start running.

Instead, he found himself landing on something warm. Warm and soft.

Manabe’s hand.

He had caught Yuki – as his clothes fell in a flutter to the floor – and stared at him with wide eyes.

Yuki froze. Could only stare back because this couldn’t be happening. Not when he had figured it all out.

But then – did he not think this was a possibility? And disregarded it because Manabe was something like Tohru, and maybe he would be like her. Accept it.

Manabe wasn’t like Tohru.

His mouth widened and he chuckled instead, looking at the rat in his hand. And that was stranger. Kept Yuki frozen to the spot.

“Should I – kiss you to turn you back?” Manabe asked. He was still steadying the bike and it was still raining. The raindrops seemed a lot bigger now that Yuki was a lot smaller.

Yuki ducked his head, because now his heart was racing all the more. “You absolutely should not.”

Manabe tilted his head to one side. Still smiling. “Won’t a kiss from your boyfriend break the spell?”

“You are not my boyfriend!” His voice was a tiny squeak. It was only an important distinction because it was fake – their relationship was fake and now he didn’t want it to be. Now he almost wished that a kiss would break the curse.

Manabe laughed again, shaking his head like a dog and sending rain everywhere.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Let's get you out of the rain.”

“Bring my clothes,” Yuki murmured. All too aware of the soft skin under his feet. The same hand he’d held so many times like it was no big deal. “I’ll – transform back on my own.”

“Yes, your highness.” Manabe quipped. He hesitated for a moment, then he brought his hand up. To his shoulder. It was an embarrassing prospect, but Yuki didn’t think he could be anymore embarrassed than he already was. He stepped onto Manabe’s school jumper, stood right by the hair that had tickled his cheek just a few minutes before.

Manabe scooped up Yuki’s discarded uniform with one hand and tossed it over the bike saddle, before he took hold of the handlebars and walked it off. Past the bushes and down the narrow, slippery steps to the underpass.

Another car rumbled by, lighting up the indigo and black world before disappearing.

Manabe didn’t say anything as he lugged the bike down and into the tunnel. It was lighter down here – yellow fluorescent lights illuminating the tunnel. There was a collection of graffiti tags on one side of it, the white paint slowly spreading out as though it was a disease.

When the bike was propped against the wall – when they were safely out of sight – Manabe’s warm hand came up again. Yuki stepped onto it, holding on with all four paws as it swooped downwards. It was like the least safest elevator in the world, and being carried like this made him feel queasy. He hadn’t even let Tohru carry him like this.

But then, Tohru hadn’t laughed and treated this like it was the next logical thing to happen after confessing feelings to each other.

He stepped onto his folded clothes on the saddle.

Manabe leant against the wall, his arms folded, watching Yuki. His hair was curled at the neck from damp. He didn’t say anything.

“Did anyone see?” Yuki asked. He was uncomfortably aware of how damp his fur was, but he had dignity enough not to shake himself off.

“Aside from me?” Manabe asked. “No.”

He was still smiling like there was something funny. It should have irked Yuki. Instead, it felt soothing. This wasn’t a big deal. Another thing Akito was wrong about.

He sat back on his haunches. “Go on. You can ask.”

“What's the trigger?” Manabe said. He wiped damp bangs out of his eyes. The rain was heavier now, coming from either side of the underpass. “Why do you transform?”

“Stress.” Yuki shuffled. “Or - embracing a member of the opposite sex.”

“Ah.” He could see it clicking together in Manabe’s mind. He scratched his ear as he thought, and Yuki shuffled uncomfortably. He wouldn’t get very far with these little legs in the rain, even if he wanted to run.

Then Manabe smiled at him. More softly, ducking his chin into his chest. “I'm sorry. I said that I wouldn't give you another panic attack.”

It hadn’t been that. Not quite. But it was embarrassing to admit that it was the pure shock of confirming that someone liked Yuki, like that. For who he was, and not because of some idea that he was a Prince.

“No.” Yuki shook his head, feeling his ears swaying. “I'm the one with the curse.”

“Curse?”

Yuki opened his mouth to explain it all, but hesitated. He wasn’t Shigure – he wouldn’t tell someone just so they could get their memory erased. Maybe, the less Manabe knew, the less of a threat he would be.

“I'm not supposed to say,” he finally murmured.

“Obviously.” Manabe nodded. Still smiling – was this funny to him? Why didn’t it make Yuki angrier?

“You could get your memory erased.” Yuki tried to sound serious. Like this was something that you shouldn’t have a sense of humour about. “Of this. Of me.”

A dark eyebrow raised at him. “You don’t want me to forget you?”

There was a spider on the light above his head. Yuki stared at it, still shuffling. Still feeling uncomfortably warm. No, he thought. No, he didn’t want Manabe to forget him. He didn’t want to start all of this again.

Not even if it meant going back and making sure that ‘Yun-Yun,’ was never uttered.

He scuffed his toes against the damp shirt.

“I'm not answering that,” he said.

Manabe chuckled. He put his fist over his mouth to hide it, but his eyes still sparkled.

Yuki shook his head, as though it would clear the fog rapidly appearing in his mind.

“I'm serious,” he said. “When you tease me like that –”

“Your cheeks go such a brilliant colour,” Manabe finished. His smile widened. “And now - see, your ears are going back.” His finger came near – as though he was going to stroke Yuki – but it didn’t touch him. It hovered, and then he pulled it back, running his hand over his mouth. There was pink, suddenly, on his cheeks. “It's cute - you make a cute mouse. But I like you better as a human.”

“Am I cute as a human?” He still hated that word, but he knew a little about teasing now. It was easier to tease when Manabe looked embarrassed.

“Wouldn't you like to know,” Manabe muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck, and his cheeks were red now.

Yuki smiled, but he was all too aware of his ears now. He curled his tail around himself.

“How are you – acting like this is normal?” Yuki asked.

“What’s the alternative?” Manabe replied.

“Surprise, at least.”

Manabe shrugged. “Well - if I don’t laugh I'll cry and that will make you feel bad.”

“It doesn't matter what I feel,” Yuki murmured.

“It does to me,” Manabe said. Softly. He smiled at Yuki, and with the soft light behind him, he looked like an angel. An angel standing in an underpass. “I said I didn’t want a mundane life, didn’t I?”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Yuki muttered. But if rats could smile, he would be.

“And I figured that there was a reason, that you hadn’t got close to anyone. Until Miss Honda, of course. It was more surprising that you kept speaking to me, especially after…this…makes sense, actually.”

“You can’t –”

“I won’t tell. If you don’t get my memory erased” Manabe continued scratching the back of his neck. “And I’ll try not to – get you – stressed.”

“It’s not your fault.” Yuki took a step closer. To the edge of the saddle, looking up at Manabe. “I was only so – because – because I like you. Very much. Kakeru.”

Manabe blinked at him. With wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth. As though he was completely shocked.

And it was at that moment that Yuki transformed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): So last week, I was travelling all of Thursday and I was so tired that I passed out without the chance to proof this chapter.  
> And then I thought that there were some scenes I wanted to add before the last one happened...which...I had already...written. So that's one downside of writing chapters way before posting them..]  
> Anyway - I wanted to say thank you all so so much for all the attention this fic has gotten! I honestly didn't expect very much when I first uploaded so the fact that it has such a following is such a blessing! It's really lovely! If I don't reply to any comments, it's just because I can only say thank you!! <3 <3  
> Sorry about the cliffhanger, but it is the first one of the fic. This is such a big beat that I wanted to really take the time to do it justice.  
> XXX


	8. 8

Yuki yelped.

But – thankfully – Kakeru turned as soon as he possible. All the way around, his hand still on his neck. Maybe he had realised what would happen, since they’d brought Yuki’s clothes with them.

He dressed feverishly – all too aware of how open this was. All too aware of Manabe standing just a foot or so away. All too aware that his clothes were damp from the rain, and muddy from where they fell on the floor. So incredibly, painfully, aware of his nakedness.

Maybe it would have been better to run away as a rat after all.

But he was clothed. And that was a blessing, even if his heart was still racing. It felt as though he’d just transform right back.

Yuki took hold of the bike, wheeling it around so that it was the right way. He made sure it was between him and Manabe, as though it was a protective barrier.

The back of Manabe’s neck was red raw, and he was still rubbing at it, glancing at Yuki as though he was going to explode.

“It’s okay,” Yuki murmured, even though it really wasn’t. None of this was.

“You – meant it?” Manabe asked. “When you said about – liking me?”

Yuki nodded. Ducked his head so that his hair fell forward, because he could feel himself going pink. Because admitting it made him feel light-headed and shaky.

“I'm sorry,” he said. They walked in tiny steps, back through the underpass, and suddenly the end of it looked scary. Much too open. Nothing like the small, soft, yellow space they were in. “I'm sorry - I don't know if I'll be able to do this - if I'll be able to - be - with you –”

“Do you want to be?” Manabe’s hand was on the other handlebar.

He nodded. “But, I –” His skin still felt feverish. Admitting this. It was terrifying.

“Yuki.” Manabe held the bike still. Yuki didn’t tug it. “Do you want to?”

“Well.” He took a breath. Held it. Hated being so open and exposed. “I - think so.”

He glanced through pale strands of hair to see Manabe smiling, slightly, and eyebrow raised.

“Very flattering.”

“I've never –” Yuki’s cheeks were burning now, and he couldn’t find the words. “Not like this.”

“With a boy?” Manabe tilted his head to one side. And his voice was oh-so-soft and oh-so-understanding.

“I don't –” All of Yuki was exposed. Manabe had seen everything now – he could admit it. Now that the lid was off, it would all have to come out. “Didn’t think I would – with anyone.”

Looking up was a mistake. Because Manabe looked so concerned, and his skin looked bronze in the dim light – his eyes sparkling. Those warm, dark eyes.

“Oh, honey.”

“I've got a lot to figure out, Kakeru.” Yuki’s voice was still strained. Stained and unused to being so truthful.

Manabe looked over him. Looked over him as though he wanted to memorize Yuki’s face forever, and not because he was ‘the Prince.’ Because he was Yuki and Manabe cared about him. Enough to pretend to date him.

“Maybe…” Manabe’s thumb rubbed over the bike’s handlebar. “Maybe, I want to figure it out with you. To set you free.”

Yuki hadn’t thought he was trapped. Not since leaving the Sohma estate. And even then, not since meeting Tohru. He hadn’t thought of himself as something needing to be set free. But he supposed he was – these last few weeks had shown that. Yuki might have escaped the prison, but he still had shackles.

Now there was someone who wanted to help him. Someone who knew it all and didn’t care. And that someone should have been Tohru. And it was. But it wasn’t. He didn’t feel this way about Tohru. Tohru didn’t make it feel as though there were sparks in his mind and a fire in his chest.

Manabe leant forward. Slowly. There was still the bike between them, and it seemed to anchor Yuki. Made him feel grounded. They were close – he could feel warmth breath on his cheeks. And he wondered if it was going to be like the restaurant – just a kiss on the cheek – he had wanted that again, didn’t he?

He wanted that now. To feel fluttery and warm liket hat again.

Manabe’s lips pressed against the corner of Yuki’s mouth. Just for a second. A soft, fleeting feeling that made his face tingle. There was a small sound in the back of his throat that he wasn’t sure Manabe heard.

He did. Because his hand found Yuki’s on the handlebars and squeezed.

“Cute,” he whispered. Then pulled away, pushing gently on the bike. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Yuki could only make a sound of agreement. Still tingly.

They continued on foot. One hand each on the handlebars. It wasn’t raining so hard now, but there was a light drizzle in the air that made everything damp. Good. It cooled Yuki’s cheeks.

He waited – waited until he could talk without feeling his heartbeat in his tongue. Until they were almost halfway back to his.

“You’re so patient.”

Manabe smiled. He was looking ahead and it seemed like there was a sparkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because, you’re…”

“Loud? Annoying?”

Yuki found himself smiling. He bit his lip. “Something like that. People are complicated, tough, right?”

“Something like that.” Manabe was grinning now. He looked at Yuki with those sparkling eyes, then shook his head. He sighed, and looked up at the sky. It was late now – late enough that Yuki could pick out a few stars. “I’m not patient. I’ve been just about going mad these last few weeks – waiting for the pin to drop. I started to think you had figured it out already, and you just really did hate me.”

“No,” Yuki said.

“Well, I know that now, but you – well, you’ve got a lot going on.”

“You could say that.” Yuki chuckled. And Manabe did too. He pressed himself against the side of the bike, because it was easier than pressing himself into Manabe.

“I mean, one day you’re blowing up at me and the next you’re draped over me – talking like some Prince woo-ing a fair maiden,” Manabe continued. Then he paused. “Ah. You transform when you hug girls.”

“I’m sorry.” Yuki spoke quickly. “It wasn’t – it wasn’t just that – I just –”

“You don’t hug people. Anyone.”

Yuki pressed against the bike. Harder. So that it pressed into Manabe’s leg. “I like hugging you.”

Manabe grinned. His teeth flashed in the amber glow of a streetlamp. “Even if I keep turning you into a rat?”

It was so close to what Tohru had once said that Yuki felt warmth spread through his chest. He nodded, and felt the bike being pressed back against him.

“I’m glad.”

*

Manabe walked Yuki all the way up to the path, but he stopped him from getting closer. Any closer and Shigure’s keen eyes would spot them – would see Manabe enough to recognise him if they ever bumped into each other again..

“It’s best that…no one knows that you know,” Yuki explained. “Bad things happen when people date Sohmas.”

“Do I want to know?” Manabe asked. There weren’t as many lights up here, but his eyes still had a spark in them.

Yuki thought of Kisa, all bandaged up. Thought of Rin, in the hospital. For months. Thought of Hatori. He shook his head. Manabe thought this was like a fairytale, with Princes who turned into mice, and he didn’t want to spoil that magic.

“Alright.” Manabe’s voice was low. They were still holding the bike between them, and suddenly his fingers grazed over Yuki’s. They were frozen in the evening chill, and damp. He cleared his throat, then nudged again. “Well, I have escorted the prince in distress back to his castle, so this daring knight will be taking his leave.”

Yuki rolled his eyes, and there was yellow light from the house enough for Manabe to see it, because he laughed.

“And what – should I give you a kiss as a thank you?” His voice trembled slightly. He had suggested it, because there was a part of him that –

“I wouldn’t be…objected to the idea.” Manabe looked almost bashful. His chin on his chest as he looked up at Yuki.

His heart was pounding again. But a good kind of pounding, because he knew where he stood now. He leant over the handlebars, one hand coming up so that his fingers hovered above Manabe’s cheek. They were numb, which helped make it less scary.

Manabe’s mouth was parted – his breath was warm on Yuki’s face as he came closer.

He kissed him. A boy. Manabe. Kakeru Manabe.

A chaste, moments long kiss, but it made his mouth tingle as though he’d been sparked.

Manabe pressed his forehead against Yuki’s before he could pull away. And he could sense, rather than see, that he was grinning.

“I’ll – see you at school.” Yuki had meant to shove Manabe away playfully, but his hand stuck on his shoulder. He was just so – _there_. Real and wanting to be with Yuki.

“See you at school,” Manabe echoed. He pulled away, his bangs falling away from Yuki with a reluctance, before he took hold of the bike properly.

Yuki continued up the path, feeling lightheaded and dizzy but happy. So happy. He glanced back, when he got to the front door, and could still see a silhouette walking a bike back into the wilderness.

A silhouette that accepted every part of Yuki.

He let himself in, tried to creep past the living room, and failed.

“You’re home late,” Shigure said. He hadn’t even looked up from the table, where he fiddled with a pack of cards. Kyo and Tohru were there too, bone dry, and blinking at him. Had Manabe’s kiss marked him, somehow? He ran a hand over his lips.

“Student council overran,” he said.

“Ah, yes. A very special council of two people.” Shigure was teasing – smirking at him in a way Yuki was used to. But it was so close to the mark that he felt his cheeks warm. He scowled.

Tohru – the angel that she was – came to his rescue, by struggling to her feet and crying, “you got caught in the rain. You should –”

He smiled at her. “I was going to run a bath now, and get changed.”

“Here, I’ll help you find a towel.”

She took hold of his hand as she passed him, leading him up the stairs behind her. He let her, thankful to be away from the prying eyes behind him. He ran his fingers over his lips again. They still tingled, but surely there was no way to tell what had happened just from looking at them.

Tohru found a white towel, and took to drying Yuki’s hair off herself. But she had a gentle, caring touch, and he let her. It made him feel so safe, to be cared for as though he was a small, fragile thing.

“You look – happy today, Yuki-kun,” she said, quietly, as she worked.

His eyes had half-closed – he could fall asleep with Tohru behaving like a mother hen.

“I –“ He hesitated. There was nothing that he couldn’t tell her. At least, there hadn’t been. Now that there was one, he felt like he had to make it up. “Kissed Kakeru-kun. Today.”

He was calling him Kakeru all the time, now. It felt strange and intimate to say it out loud.

“Oh!” Tohru let the towel fall. Enough so that Yuki could see she was grinning up at him with rosy cheeks and shining eyes. “That’s wonderful! Was that your first kiss?”

Yuki nodded.

“What’s it like?” Tohru asked. She’d let go of the towel completely now, and it fell onto Yuki’s shoulders. “Kissing?”

“It’s…” Yuki wasn’t sure he could do it justice. “Warm. And – sparky.”

“Sparkly?” They were close. Closer than they would usually stand.

“No, like – sparks.”

“Ah – like when you plug a hairdryer that’s already turned on in?”

Every time he stopped worrying so much about Tohru as a functioning human, she said something that made it all return. He stared at her – but she was looking at him with earnest brown eyes – and he loved her. Not like Manabe. But he did love her. So much.

“Something like that,” he found himself saying.

“Wow,” she whispered. Her eyes were glazed, as though she was far away. Maybe she was. Maybe she was imaging kissing someone. Maybe Kyo, Yuki thought, thinking about the fondness that he had started looking at her with. She suddenly snapped out of it – clutching at the towel again, as though she just remembered that Yuki was sopping wet. “Oh, but we need to get you a bath run. If you stand here like this, you’re sure to catch cold.”

He didn’t stop her. There was no stopping Tohru when her mothering mode had been activated.

And maybe it was nice to be cared for.

*

Surprisingly, it didn’t make going to school feel any less stressful. If anything, he was just as nervous, now that Kakeru knew. Now that they had kissed. Did he expect him to do it at school? He didn’t want the fanclub girls to see that – which was ridiculous, because they were the very reason that this had all started in the first place.

But it was different now.

Kakeru found him first. Tohru had just met up with Uotani and Hanajima in the courtyard, when sudden heavy arms appeared around Yuki’s neck. In the next moment, Kakeru was pressed against him, his chin resting on his shoulder.

“Morning, Yun-Yun.” And he kissed Yuki’s cheek. Just lightly. Just enough to stun him into silence because it wasn’t a dream – he hadn’t dreamt it – and Kakeru was still here.

“Morning,” he murmured, feeling his face flood with heat.

Tohru was grinning at him, like a mother proud of a child. Uotani was telling them that they were so cute, which of course Kakeru played up to. Yuki leant back against him, putting his hands on Kakeru’s arms and pressing them against him because they were warm and soft in his jumper. And Kakeru was close enough that he could smell vanilla.

One girl had seen. Was watching with rapt, wide eyes, and Yuki turned his face away from her. Focused on smiling good morning to Hatsu Haru and Momiji, who were approaching them.

One girl had seen. Was watching with rapt, wide eyes, and Yuki turned his face away from her. Kept one arm on Kakeru’s, and his skin seemed so warm. Focused on smiling good morning to Hatsu Haru and Momiji, who were heading through the school gates. Momiji waved with an arm over his head, and immediately started clamouring to Kakeru about the latest episode of Mogeta. He let go of Yuki to reply enthusiastically, and he stepped up to Hatsu Haru.

“You look…flustered this morning,” Hastu Haru commented. “But a happy flustered.”

Yuki paused, watching Kakeru act out a scene with Momiji. Childish, maybe. But he was making Momiji grin and laugh like a normal teenager. They could all do with that.

Uotani, on the other hand, laughed at how ridiculous they looked. Kakeru just laughed back. Completely carefree, but how could he be? When his boyfriend – fake boyfriend? – turned into a rat?

“Maybe I’m getting used to this,” he finally said. Because he was. Realising that some of the scary, confusing feelings were good. That he liked some of them.

“That’s good.” Hatsu Haru nudged him with his elbow. “It’s good that you can be yourself now.”

Himself. Was he ready to think of himself as gay? Not yet.

He nudged Hatsu Haru back instead. “And you’re the expert on these things.”

“It was you I came out to first.” Hatsu Haru looked into the distance, taking a dramatic breath. “My first love.”

Yuki couldn’t help smiling, even as he rolled his eyes. But that helped. Thinking back to just a few years ago, when Haru had unapologetically told Yuki that he was bisexual, that helped. Of course he loved Hatsu Haru, no matter what. That was the first step in unlearning what he had thought. And between him and Ayame, Yuki was starting to feel less strange. Less alone.

Manabe grinned at him suddenly and the thought doubled down.

Definitely less alone.

*

It was Yuki who waited outside of Kakeru’s class for him., this time. It made him feel – awkward. Too conscious of himself and what he was going to say when he saw him. A few girls noticed him, and started chatting. For once, he found it easy to make small talk back. There was a lightness in his chest – such a _relief._ He hadn’t realised just how muddled things had become, and how heavily that had weighed on him.

There were fanclub girls down the hall, watching. But it was clear the girls didn’t feel threatened – obvious, he would think, that they could not ‘lure’ him away from Kakeru.

Who blinked, honey eyes wide, when he spotted Yuki. But then he grinned.

One of his friends noticed the two of them smiling, and laughed, knocking Kakeru’s shoulder jokingly. He laughed back, but his eyes stayed on Yuki’s.

“Um.” Yuki tried to remember what it was he wanted to say. “I was thinking – lunch? Together?”

Kakeru batted away another friend, making a teasing comment. “Lunch together sounds good.”

“You could go on the lawn,” one of the girls, a freshman, Yuki thought, suggested. “Whilst the weather’s still warm.”

He smiled at her. Because she didn’t care that they were both boys. Only thought that Yuki was a kind upperclassman, and wanted to be helpful. So he started to say that sounded like a wonderful idea, but Kakeru linked their arms together and said he “had a place in mind.”

Said place, of course, turned out to be the school council room.

“Very romantic,” Yuki said.

Kakeru raised an eyebrow. “It is.” He led Yuki in by the hand, carefully. “It’s _private._ Away from anyone who might want to eavesdrop. I didn’t think you would appreciate that.”

He wouldn’t. But he fought off his smile. “I wouldn’t.”

"I -" Manabe trailed off. For a moment, looked as though he was only staring at Yuki's eyes. He ducked his head, skin prickling. This was what he had been waiting for all day, but now they were alone, he felt - painfully aware of himself. "You left me with a lot."

A familiar fear hit him. Hard. Made him weak at the knees and doubt what had happened the night before.

He would hate Yuki.

"I can answer any questions," he said.

"Look - it's not you." Kakeru took both of Yuki's hands. Ever so gently. As though he was made of glass. And didn't mind when Yuki gave a disbelieving, crazy half-life at the tired line. He just shook his head. "Its more - the confirmation that magic- the supernatural - whatever - exists. That's a lot."

The panic ebbed. Yuki could almost laugh with relief.

"I wouldn't know." He shook his head. Kept home of one of Kakeru's hands as he stepped over to the desks. "This has always been -"

Kakeru held still. Tugged, just slightly. "Always?"

Yuki sat on the end of the desk. Felt the sun on his back, through the window. It seemed a lot easier to talk about the curse – something so familiar – than his feelings. "Since I was born."

Kakeru perched next to him, his thumb rubbing over the back of Yuki's palm. "You can’t break it?"

That was the word no one said. No one in the zodiac mentioned it, or if it was brought up, they didn’t actually _say_ it. And it was impossible to explain exactly why, especially to someone on the inside. Even family members didn’t understand.

There was a more nagging fear in Yuki. Words that Akito had said long ago that Tohru had disproven – Kakeru had disproven – but could not so easily forget. There was a nagging fear in him that he couldn’t move on from.

“You still want to – be – with me?” he asked, incredibly aware of their linked hands.

Kakeru tilted his head to the side, and the sun turned his hair almost auburn. “What do you mean?”

“Well – I’m –“ Magic. Supernatural. Whatever.

“It's a lot.” Kakeru admitted. But still kept hold of Yuki. “It is. I guess I realised that – after. You're under a curse. That's - that's crazy.” Yet, he wasn’t horrified. Wasn’t disgusted. Just – amazed, if anything. “You were a rat. A talking rat.”

A cute rat, according to you,” Yuki murmured, his cheeks warm.

Kakeru laughed, his own face pink, before he grew serious again, “but of course I want to be around you. You're my friend.”

Yuki wanted to trust him. So desperately. Still, he had to look him in the eye and ask, “you're not saying that because it's what they would say in a manga?”

There was a pause. Not a bad one – a moment where Kakeru looked confused.

“Well – it _is_ what they would say in a manga.” He nudged Yuki’s shoulder, and he found himself chuckling. Being with Kakeru untangled his stomach. “But - it's true. We're friends.” They stayed pressed against each other. Kakeru smelt of vanilla, and that seemed wonderful. “I can get used to the fact that you're a rat. Especially if we're - more –“ He squeezed their hands. “Than that.”

His heard fluttered like a trapped butterfly. “If its still –“

“On the table, in the cards, written in the sky.”

“Do _not_ get a skywriter.” Yuki pointed a finger at him, and Kakeru caught it, chuckling.

“Can’t afford it. Otherwise it would be.”

How could he still be exhausted with him even when he wanted to –

Yuki rolled his eyes. “You're impossible.”

Their shoulders nudged together. “That makes two of us.”

Kakeru made it sound as though that was a good thing. Maybe it was.

Yuki kept his head down, either way. Pressed his cheek against Kakeru’s shoulder, as though they were on the bike. It was easier that way. He looked at their linked hands, and felt his heart throb.

“That wasn’t part of your plan.”

“No.” It really didn’t seem to bother him.

Yuki paused. The words thrumming through his mind several times before they got to his lips.

“Was it always really just about me?”

A heartbeat that he could feel in the tips of his fingers.

“Yeah.” Kakeru untangled their hands to trace the lines of Yuki’s palms. It tingled, almost ticklish. “So - I didn’t always feel - like this - but I did know that something had to be done about those girls. It was for Kimi and Machi too, but not as much. That was just – a bonus.” He was sure that Kakeru could feel his heartbeat through his hand. He cared – Kakeru had genuinely wanted to help Yuki. Because he cared. “I don’t know, their rules were crazy and you never looked really - you around them.”

“What does that mean?” He didn’t let himself think about it, as took Kakeru’s hand in both of his.

Kakeru replied, “The meet-the-parents you.”

“ _What?”_

“The customer-service you.” Kakeru’s finger barely nudged his chin, but it was enough to get Yuki to look up at him. See him really _looking_ at him, all the way through. “All fake smiles and dull eyes. I wanted to get them off your back.” His expression turned sheepish. “But I hadn't planned to say we were together. That did just - blurt out.”

Yuki smirked. “That part I didn’t doubt.”

“Which did you doubt?” And when Yuki turned away, glad his hair was long in front, Kakeru slipped from the desk to stand in front of him. Basically eye-level. There was no escaping him.

“That I would like you?” Kakeru pressed.

He stumbled for an answer. Wondered if he could explain – everything – explain that people didn’t like Yuki. They weren’t meant to like Yuki. Not the real him. But he was trying not to feel that way. Because of Tohru – because of Kakeru – only things weren’t that simple.

Only he still couldn’t quite believe this.

“That didn’t come far after, really,” Kakeru said. Honey eyes and pink cheeks. “I guess - when I realised that you had no idea how to hug someone - that you were completely touch starved –“

A disaster. “I get it.”

“It was like a bird with a broken wing.” Kakeru glanced up. “Endearing, or something. And then I started to notice things.”

“Things?”

“Your voice.” And Kakeru spoke quickly, eyes on their hands, and Yuki could understand, because it was easier that way. “How it's like honey at times and yet can be frozen too. It’s – soft – but – I could listen to you talk all day.”

He didn’t know what to say. Only felt incredibly warm – incredibly happy. “Hm.”

“And of course you're nice to look at.” Kakeru smiled. Still sheepish, but trying to be teasing.

Two could play at that game. Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Look who’s talking.”

“Me? I'm nothing special.”

His voice came out more earnestly than he thought it would. Soft and unabashedly truthful. “I think you are.”

Kakeru looked surprised for a moment. His fingers brushed Yuki’s bangs – parting them to one side, before he leant up and pressed his lips against the spot.

“Thank you, honey,” Kakeru whispered.

Yuki’s stomach leapt up and kicked his heart into a gallop. His fingers found the sides of Kakeru’s shirt, entwining themselves in, because when he tilted his head upwards he realised how very close they were. How their lips were a hairs breadth away.

“You okay?” Kakeru’s hands were on the desk, shielding Yuki.

“Mm.” He nudged his mouth up. Kissed Kakeru Manabe. It was a shy, hesitant thing, but it was wonderful. Made him feel as though he was glowing, and maybe he should feel guilty, but he couldn’t.

Kakeru kissed him back, less shy, guiding Yuki’s mouth until he pulled away.

He still wasn’t sure he liked boys. Still wasn’t sure if he liked _kissing_ boys.

But Yuki knew that he liked kissing Kakeru Manabe, and that seemed enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Vitamin Pop on tumblr does a lot of really cute Yukeru art: https://vitaminpop.tumblr.com/ And I look at their work when I need to write this fic, lol.  
> Thank you so so much for all of the support on the last chapter!! I haven't had that many messages in my inbox in a long time and it was really wonderful! It really does mean everything and is the reason I keep feeling inspired to continue this fic! If I didn't reply, it's because I can only say thank you!!!! <3 <3  
> Although, I think I'll only go to 10/11/12 chapters on this fic. I'm coming to the end of what I wanted to explore.   
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter - please do leave thoughts below so I know you're still here - and I'll see you soon! <3 xx


	9. 9

9

Gay.

Yuki was gay.

He didn’t know if he liked that word. He knew that Akito would have treated it as a bad word. But Akito was wrong about other things. And there was Ayame, Shigure, Hatsu Haru who did not think of it as anything bad. Seemed quite happy to identify as such. Yuki, though, did not.

It was easy when he sat in the student council room with Kakeru. Although he had felt flustered and nervous, he had been so – so happy too. Knew it was what he wanted. That he _liked_ Kakeru Manabe and that was absolutely fine.

When he got home, though, it was different. It was then, that his stomach curled into itself and the guilt rolled in like a fog. That he shouldn’t want this. That it was going to get him into trouble.

Going to end with Kakeru hurt because of him.

Things had been different, when they had only been pretending. Because it wasn’t real, Yuki didn’t really feel that way. But he did, now. How could he explain to anyone why these feelings were only coming up now?

Tohru would have an answer, regardless, but it wasn’t her he went to first.

The thoughts were at their worst late into the night, and there was only one person up then.

Shigure tutted at him, when he stepped into the dim light of his writing room. There was, oddly enough, a wad of written paper to one side and another page half-full in front of him. Was that his secret? Did he only write at ungodly hours, when no one could catch him at it?

“It’s a school night,” Shigure murmured. Quiet, so that he didn’t wake anyone else. “How are you going to manage your lessons tomorrow if you don’t get a healthy eight hours of sleep?”

Yuki settled across from him, trying to get the words to come out of his head and onto his tongue. Wondering how best to phrase it. If he absolutely had to use the word.

“I can make you some hot milk if you need it,” Shigure continued, not glancing up from his work.

Yuki watched the tip of it glide across the page, leaving a trail of ink behind it like a snail.

Shigure had done that a few times, when Yuki was younger. When he first started living here, and the nightmares were more frequent. Only if he cried out when he woke up, and he always tried not to.

“I’m okay,” he said, voice very small. He shuffled, still struggling with the phrasing. Repeating his question to himself over and over until it finally came out as, “do you think Akito would be mad?”

The pen stilled. “About what?”

There was something in the question. Something like a warning.

“About who I’m – who I’m seeing.” His skin prickled with heat.

“Ah.” The pen began writing again. “Yes. Definitely.”

Which was what he already knew. But still – it killed whatever tiny hope Yuki had been harbouring. The expectation what deep down, family would accept him, no matter what.

“As much that you’ve found happiness, as it is that it’s a boy,” Shigure continued. The pen paused again, and he looked up with dark eyes. “Why? Did he ask to meet the family?”

“No. And he won’t.” Yuki almost growled. There was a sudden knee-jerk in him. Kakeru? Here? Never.

He’d expected Shigure to laugh at that, maybe plead with him to see his _boyfriend_ , but instead, he gave a small nod. There was something unplaceable as he said, “that’s probably for the best.”

It was cold down here. Yuki shuffled. Didn’t quite mean to ask, “Does he – know about – you?”

“I suspect,” Shigure paused. Put down his pen. “That he suspects.” For a writer, he was not very good with words. “But no. Believe it or not, you can keep secrets from him. You can keep this a secret. It’s your first love, after all.”

There was something wistful in his voice. As though he didn’t believe this would last. Maybe it wouldn’t. The future was a horrible, confusing thing anyway. The present – this – was more important.

“So – he won’t find out?”

“I haven’t told a soul.” But Shigure’s lips curled upwards. Yuki narrowed his eyes, and he relented, as though it had been an effort to hold it in. “Hatori doesn’t count – he’s like an uncle to you. He deserved to know.”

“It wasn’t your information to share.” Yuki went to get up, thumped on the table harder than he meant to as he did. He knew that Hatori wouldn’t tell, but that wasn’t the point. He didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want anyone in the family to know. Wanted to keep Manabe away from them all.

He turned to go, frustration taking over worry.

“But.” Shigure’s voice stopped him. “I didn’t tell Aya.”

Yuki couldn’t figure out which was worse. Shigure telling Ayame, or him doing so himself. He certainly didn’t want to. Didn’t know how and didn’t trust him to keep it a secret either.

He continued out, realising that he was too het up about that to be guilty. That was Shigure’s way of comforting people. Yuki rolled his eyes, and went back to bed, expecting to stare up at the ceiling until it started to get light again.

Ten minutes later, though, there was a tap at his door. He didn’t move, pretending to be sleep.

Someone came in. Left something on his bedside table. The door clicked closed once more.

Yuki rolled over. There was a mug.

Hot milk.

*

“Hey cutie pie.” Kakeru kissed Yuki’s cheek to say good morning, an arm around the small of his back.

Yuki pretended to frown. “Watch it.”

Kakeru just laughed. Then grew concerned. “As _cute_ as you are, you look pale.”

He put the back of his hand on Yuki’s forehead. He flicked it away.

“Stop calling me that.” But he was smiling too. Was glad that Tohru and Kyo were heading to class without him, and that Machi was pointedly looking the other way. Like this, it was easy to forget everyone else.

“Ah – you’re meant to be getting comfortable with the word cute. I'm just being a good boyfriend." And didn't Kakeru just look so smug at the word? He smiled at Yuki, softening and brushing hair from his eyes. "Are you sick?"

"No. I just - haven't been sleeping well."

"You alright?" He looked concerned. Really, genuinely, concerned, and that made Yuki want to sob.

He could lie. A few days ago, he would have done. But Kakeru knew everything now.

"Its a lot to - come to terms with." Even as he said it, he felt foolish. Surely Kakeru had to deal with more - had to deal with his boyfriend being a _rat._

But he looked understanding. Found Yuki' hand as he pulled away, and squeezed it.

"I'm here _-_ if you need me."

Yuki ducked his head. Cheeks pink. "I know. Thank you."

Kakeru smiled. Kept hold of Yuki’s hand as they walked, and it did not seem like such a scary thing now. Maybe it was the few weeks of pretending, or maybe because school never could contend with the Sohma estate. This was safe.

Though, embarrassing, when other people could see. It was why he hugged Kakeru outside out class instead of kissing him. He was not that brave.

Class was easy to. Things to focus on. Or, if he couldn’t, then his mind was full of those honey eyes as Kakeru said goodbye. It was a lot to figure out, but he had the feeling that he could manage it.

Trouble arrived at lunchtime, just as Yuki was wiping down the board. Thinking about lunch with his friends – his friends who did not care about the word gay, even Kyo. Who made him feel – normal. A normal teenager.

But there were voices outside the classroom – and voices that made his stomach sink.

“Prince Yuki doesn’t like being called cute.” A fanclub girl.

Yuki kept working on the board, hoping that it was just a first year who ‘stepped out of line,’ and not –

“He doesn’t like being called Prince.”

Kakeru. Waiting outside of Yuki’s class like a fake or real boyfriend. And either stirring up trouble, or adding his spoon to it.

“Everyone knows that calling him cute makes him uncomfortable.” That was true. It did. It used to.

But – “Not when I say it.” He knew that Kakeru would have shrugged at them.

“What’s so special about you?” From the sounds of it, there were two girls out there, but maybe more. Yuki sighed, and put the blackboard brush down.

“I guess I don’t annoy him.” There was an ease to Kakeru’s voice. A slight dig at them.

“We don’t annoy Prince Yuki!”

He came to the door – yes, there were only two, but their faces were bright red. A sure sign they were ready to explode. Yuki stayed in the doorway, keeping his focus on the boy in front of him.

“Kakeru.”

Kakeru turned. Grinned. Reached out to poke Yuki’s cheek. “There’s my cutie-pie.”

Yun-Yun he was starting to get used to. Honey was his own fault. But cutie-pie made his brow twitch. He narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t call me that.”

The fanclub girl – the one with the pigtails, chimed in – “he said don’t call him that.”

“Not cutie-pie,” Kakeru conceded. He reached out his fingers, splayed, to Yuki, like he was waiting for a stray cat to rub against it. And Yuki took it, because there was an ever increasing part of him that couldn’t resist. “Just cute?”

“Don’t tease them,” Yuki said.

Kakeru pulled their hands closer, pouting. “You’re a spoilsport.”

Yuki ignored him, because if he didn’t then he would smile, and he had to look serious when he was talking to the fanclub girls. “I apologise for him.”

They looked at each other with worried expressions, then at Yuki, as though they didn’t recognise him. Maybe they didn’t.

“Do you really not mind?” one asked.

He didn’t really need to think about it. Not when it wasn’t just a tease to get a rise out of Yuki. When Kakeru really meant it, it made him smile.

“It’s different. When Kakeru says it,” he said softly.

One in the back smiled at him, then. And she looked happy for him – for them both – putting her hands over her chest. The other still looked apprehensive. Was still staring at Kakeru.

“We’re going to get going,” Yuki said, before anyone could say anything else and make the situation worse.

The one smiling nodded and said she would see them later.

They weren’t quite out of earshot before Yuki heard, “the president told us to leave them alone.”

“We can’t just sit by when _he’s_ behaving like that – to Prince Yuki.”

“He’s happy. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“And its different when you’re not wearing a dress,” Kakeru muttered. Out of their earshot.

Yuki’s stomach curdled. He squeezed their fingers. “Hush.”

Kakeru did, though he bumped their hips together and Yuki found himself smiling a little. It _was_ different now, and even though this had started with the fanclub girls, now he wished he was invisible to them.

“You shouldn’t –“

“Tease them?” Kakeru glanced at him, then shook his head. “Yuki, it’s strange. How they treat you – it’s strange.”

“Not as strange as other things.”

“Well, for you, I suppose.” Kakeru said it lightly enough, but it still prickled at Yuki. “And I suppose it’s helpful to have them stopping any other girl from coming near you.”

Yuki dropped Kakeru’s hand. Stared at him. Knew that wasn’t okay but couldn’t describe exactly why. It was like missing a step on the way down.

“That’s not fair,” he said.

“I’m just asking.” Kakeru was equally defensive.

Yuki shook his head. Impossible – maybe he’d been stupid to think that this could work. No one outside of the zodiac could really understand. It would be easer to go back. To ignore the feelings inside him and just leave it all alone. Bottle it up.

“You wouldn’t – you wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

Kakeru reached out then, and his fingers grazed Yuki’s shoulder. There was a nervous look to him, like he knew he was out of his depth with curses and transformations – coming to terms with the fact they were even real. That was as hard for him as it was for Yuki to come to terms with the word gay.

But he was staying. Just like Tohru. He was staying. Eyebrows creased with concern, and ready to try.

“It’s not – not to do with – that,” Yuki relented. Found that relenting felt nice. “They’re just not worth the trouble.”

“Okay,” Kakeru said. Nudged his fingers againt Yuki’s elbow to get them to start walking again. “So what am I supposed to say when they corner me? When they tell me I can’t use your first name, or smile at you, or touch you?” He sighed. “I'm sorry. This isn’t how I imagined this would go.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Did you think we'd sit in the classrooms kissing all lunchtime?”

He was partly teasing, a way of saying that he was sorry. And was rewarded by Kakeru’s cheeks flushing.

“No.” Though he didn’t meet Yuki’s eye. “But I figured we would talk, not argue.”

Like yesterday. Talking. Being honest. Finding out that Kakeru Manabe had fallen for Yuki Sohma at around the same time he’d realised – this.

“Arguing is a cornerstone of our relationship.” He smiled. Nudged Kakeru’s hip with his own.

“Hmph.” But there was a smirk at the corner of Kakeru’s mouth.

“What did you want to talk about?”

A pause. Kakeru looking as though he hadn’t expected to get this far.

“What sports do you like to play?”

The question caught Yuki off-guard. Because – he didn’t know. Didn’t really do sports.

He panicked. “Badminton.”

He remembered playing badminton as a group. Of how exhausted they had been, how they didn’t care about the rules. How it had been about having fun.

“Huh.” Kakeru smiled, and Yuki just knew he was going to say the ‘c’ word.

“You?” he asked, before he could.

“Baseball.”

“Never played it.”

Kakeru raised an eyebrow. “Sheltered childhood?”

Yuki raised an eyebrow in return. “Something like that.”

“Well let’s do that. Baseball. After school.”

It was getting too cold for that. Too dark too early. Yet. That didn’t mean that it was a terrible idea.

Actually, Yuki smiled. Bumped their hips together again.

“It’s a date.”

*

So they did. Finished Student Council early and Yuki rode on the back of Kakeru's bike. Had the guts to press a quick kiss against Kakeru's cheek as they rode.

There was a field not too far from the school, where they could borrow the equipment. The sun was setting when they got there, already, but it bathed Kakeru in gold, and that made him so much more –

Yuki was attracted to Kakeru. It felt as though the back of his mind had known that, but only know did he realise it. He liked him because he made him smile, was cool in the way that Yuki had always been jealous of – because he could accept magic so easily. But he liked looking at him too.

“It’s easier with three,” Kakeru said. “But we’ll both run to chase the balls.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound so fun.”

“It is.” Kakeru grinned. Looped their arms together and pulled Yuki into the field. “You can either throw a ball at my face, or hit the ball back at my face.”

“I’m not going to hit you.”

“You could even pretend the ball _is_ my face.”

Yuki laughed, almost incredulous. He was sure he could only laugh, at least, so freely, with Kakeru. “I’m not doing that.”

“It’s very good for when you’re angry at someone,” Kakeru said.

“I’m not angry at you.” Yuki bumped their hips together. “Not anymore.”

They were on the field, and Kakeru pulled away, stepping in front of Yuki. Still very close. It wouldn’t take much to kiss him.

“That’s good. I was only trying to help.”

He could barely get the words out. “I know.”

Kakeru handed him the basket of balls. He handed the bat over. Their fingers brushed.

Kakeru headed to the batting stand.

“Is there any way to throw it?” Yuki weighed the ball in his hands. Heavier than a shuttlecock. Could hurt.

“Yeah, but –“ Kakeru raised the bat. Widened his stance. Winked at Yuki. “Just focus on throwing something I can hit, honey.”

Which made Yuki throw it just a little harder than he should have.

But Kakeru still hit it, with a satisfying ‘clunk.’ It sailed off, landing a way away to Yuki’s right, and rolling across the dirt. He got another from the basket, turning it over in his hands.

“So is that what you do?” he asked. “Hit baseballs when you're angry?”

He tossed it. And it was like Kakeru’s bat was a magnet – like the ball was just drawn to it.

It landed close to the other one.

“Not so much now,” Kakeru replied. “But yeah.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Because of me?”

He was only half serious, throwing a third ball.

“No.” It hit the tip of the bat, and didn’t go as far. “Not you.”

They both paused, watching the ball. It bounced, low to the ground, before it came to a stop a few steps away from Yuki. He fetched it.

Kakeru said it quietly, so that he almost didn’t hear it.

“My mother.”

He straightened up, running a finger over the stitching of the ball. His own stomach caved in on itself. “Ah.”

“I'm not just –“ Kakeru swung the bat onto his shoulder, sighing. “It's not like 'I hate how she didn’t buy me the new game I wanted,’ I promise."

“No,” Yuki said. Took a breath and aimed the ball again. “I know a thing or two about mothers.”

He threw it. Too hard. Thinking of her, which an anger – a fury – rise up into his chest. It was something that he always tried to keep down and not think about.

But throwing the ball like that made it less heavy. Like there was less smoke at the back of his throat.

“Mm.” Kakeru waited until he had hit it. The ball soared, like a black beetle against the evening sky, further than the others. Bounced high when it hit the floor. “You can’t let Machi know you know this – but growing up – it was all about who would inherit daddy’s money.”

He looked like he needed another ball to hit, so Yuki threw one.

That sounded familiar. At least, it made Yuki think of how – happy was not the word – satisfied his mother had been at Akito’s interest in him. How she had always painted it to be a hierarchy. That it was good to be close to him.

“I – I think I know how that feels.” He threw the last ball. Felt that fire in him recede, just slightly, again.

Kakeru seemed to let it bounce past him. He stared at Yuki. “Oh yeah?”

The room – the dark room – was at the back of Yuki’s mind. It sent a familiar wave of panic through him.

He hugged himself to try and keep it in, push it back down, because he didn’t want to think about that now. Not when he was happy, with Kakeru. He wanted to be happy for once, and not have that shadow looming over him, Akito’s words in the back of his mind.

Because he knew now that the best place to be was farthest from Akito. As far as Kyo. Maybe farther. His favour was worse than his rejection.

Someone touched his shoulder. He looked up – hadn’t even realised he was staring at the floor – to see Manabe. Eyes soft and understanding.

They both understood each other.

In a way that Tohru couldn’t. She could empathize and try to make things better, but she couldn’t understand. Not when her own family were so dear to her.

That was amazing.

"Let's - round up the balls," Kakeru said.

So they did. Walking slowly, with the last of the year's sun on their backs. It chased the panic away, somewhat.

Kakeru's voice was still soft when he asked, "Is it a curse thing?"

Yuki hesitated. Tohru knew a lot about the curse, and he knew that it worried her. He’d seen her staring into the distance with a troubled expression several times during the Summer vacation. Unless, of course, she was with Kyo. Then she glowed from the inside.

Remembered watching Akito scratch her from the window. Frozen. Kyo had wanted to barge down there, but Yuki had felt like an ice statue. He wouldn’t have been able to stop it. That was what happened when people got too close to the zodiac.

“It’s probably better if you know as little as possible,” he muttered.

Tohru had always covered it with a plaster – she must have gone through a whole pack – as though she knew seeing it would upset them.

“Why?” Kakeru nudged a ball over to Yuki with his foot.

He stopped it. Bent to pick it up. “You could get hurt.”

I'm not afraid.” Kakeru had his hands on his hips, a smirk on his mouth. Playing at being an action hero. A knight in shining armour.

But there were some things he couldn’t save Yuki from.

He stood. Tossed the ball back to Manabe. He caught it, still smirking.

“You don’t know what - what the head of the Sohma family is like.”

Kakeru toyed with the boy, throwing it up, then catching it. The warning was wasted on him, he was still smirking. “But I have to save my mouse prince.”

Yuki chuckled, turning his head away. It felt impossible that he could. But the way it sounded – the way it made him feel full of champagne bubbles – like the curse would be broke and he would live happily ever after – that was a fantasy that he wouldn’t mind indulging in.

Kakeru caught Yuki’s chin. Turned him back, and pressed a kiss on his mouth. He paused, not because it was unpleasant – or even unwanted – but because it was a surprise.

“I had to,” Kakeru whispered.

Not quite able to meet his eye, Yuki’s fingers curled into Kakeru’s jumper.

“That’s not going to break it,” he said. But his lips were tingling and he –

“Worth a try. Worth trying again?”

He kissed Kakeru.

He kissed Kakeru, heart thudding. Let Kakeru pepper kisses across his cheeks and jaw - until it tickled, and he ducked his chin into his chest, laughing. Effervescent. This felt effervescent.

"I can't tell you today," he murmured.

"Fair enough." Kakeru aid. Tangled their fingers together as he stepped away. "We don't want you to - hey, maybe I should get a basket on my bike for you to ride in. When you're a rat."

"Absolutely not." He kicked one of the balls over to Kakeru.

He stopped it with his foot. Stooped to pick it up. "It would be so cool, though."

Yuki just shook his head. Marvelled in their joint hands, swinging them.

"Who got the money?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Between you and Miss Kuragi? Who got the money?"

"The inheritance? Still undecided." Kakeru shrugged. "Both of us have realised that we just don’t care as much as our mothers."

Yuki smirked. "I assume they took it well.”

“Doesn't matter.” Kakeru tossed the ball higher. Caught it again. “We're out the cage.”

He thought of his own mother. He hadn’t seen her in months – had nothing to do with her – but he couldn’t say he was out of her cage. Not yet. He was still trapped by her and Akito, and the curse would always hang over him. He wouldn’t say that he was free, by any means.

But things were changing. The fanclub girls’ retreat had made things more comfortable. _He_ felt more comfortable, if only a little, in his own skin. With this. Being with Kakeru.

Maybe he could work his way out of the cage. If only partway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I was working late yesterday, and just - didn't have time to upload before I went to bed.  
> But yeah, I'm thinking 10 or 11 chapters because I'm just - reaching a natural conclusion? I want to wrap up most of my fics because November so that I have time to do NaNoWriMo. (I'm working on an Oliver Twist continuation. Of course, he falls in love with the Artful Dodger > >)  
> As always - thank you so so much for all of the lovely comments!! They really do make my day and keep my going! I really didn't expect this fic to pick up much traction, so its really nice to see vuv If I don't reply, it's because I can only say thank you!!! <3   
> And I'll update next week!


	10. 10

10

"How was your parent teacher conference?"

Yuki had just escaped, and honestly, felt slightly dazed, like waking up from a strange dream. If Kakeru had not patted his shoulder when he caught up to him just outside, he wouldn't be sure if he was asleep or not.

They stood leaning against the bike rails, as other students lingered with their parents, or sook refuge in groups from making any kind of decision. The future had opened its maw wide today, and no one was eager to look.

"Mm," summed it up nicely.

Kakeru raised his eyebrows. "That bad?"

How to explain it all? Especially when Yuki could barely process it himself.

"My - brother interrupted," he said, carefully. Glanced around in case Ayame was still lurking, but couldn’t see any white hair. Mostly a relief. As much as he had done, him and Kakeru were not a good pair.

"I didn't know you had a brother." Kakeru grinned. "What's he like?"

There was no way he was going to admit that Kakeru reminded him of Ayame when they first met, even if he was in his good books, for the hour. That only meant that it was unfair to call him an annoying nuisance. And yet, finding a kind word to describe him also felt – tricky.

"Loud," Yuki decided.

“Ah.” Kakeru was close to him. Their arms were pressed together, and he tilted his head to nudge Yuki’s. “So I'll get on with him, then.”

He could only imagine the teasing. Relentless. “Yes, you probably would.”

“Did you ask him to come?”

No. But he knew Yuki never would. Knew that Yuki would also need back-up. How could he begin to explain all of it? Even if it wasn’t a jar of warms. Not a jar – a truck load of worms, and he didn’t want to risk getting any of them out in case he transformed.

“He offered. I said it was okay if he didn’t.”

Kakeru put more weight against Yuki. It gave him the feeling of being a lamppost. “He must really care about you.”

“It’s complicated.”

Yuki crossed his arms, tried to hold himself together, because thinking about how much Ayame cared _now_ hurt. Because if he had cared this much in the past things would have been so different, and that was something one careers meeting wouldn’t change.

There must have been something in his voice, because Kakeru pulled away. Tilted his head forward to catch Yuki’s eye.

“Is he –” He raised his eyebrows, gaze flicking to Yuki’s head. “Too?”

Ears. He was thinking of rat ears. Rat ears that he thought were cute. Why did that feel so much more intimate than it was? Why was it more embarrassing than turning into a rat at all?

The curse. Kakeru was asking about the curse. And was trying to be courteous, to let Yuki choose the pace. And yet – he thought of Tohru. Of how she stared into space more than usual lately, lost in thought. How he’d caught her looking at him and Kyo with a troubled, sad expression.

“I shouldn't say.” Because he couldn’t do that to someone else.

“Yes, but I shouldn't know what I do know,” Kakeru said. Stepped in front of Yuki properly, and tapped his nose with a finger. “So if I know a little more it won’t hurt. And you're keeping it a secret, aren’t you, Yuki?”

He tightened his grip on himself, but because Kakeru was making his stomach leap. They were probably being watched. It didn’t matter.

And it didn’t matter if he let just a tiny bit more go. They were breaking the rules anyway.

“He’s a snake.”

Kakeru tilted his head to the side, smirking. “Don’t snakes eat mice?”

“Ha-ha.”

A fan club girl passed. Gave Kakeru a suspicious look, but when she saw the matching smirk on Yuki’s face, looked confused instead. As though she couldn’t understand why leaving Yuki to his friends – to his life – would make him happy.

Kakeru rolled his eyes, as though he was thinking the same thing.

“So, what did you decide?” he asked. A smooth change of subject.

“I didn't.” Yuki hadn’t meant to be quite so honest. But Kakeru understood a thing or two about mothers. “It was already decided. That I'd go to college.”

“Is that what you want to do?” He touched Yuki’s arm. Enough to start unteasing them from each other.

“I want to keep studying,” he said. Let himself loosen more. “But I want to choose where.”

“Same.” Kakeru smiled. Leant forward so that his breath was on Yuki’s cheeks. “Let’s choose the same place.”

Yuki put a hand on his chest. Pushed him back, because that was too close, when they were still stood in public.

Kakeru just took it as an excuse to lace their fingers together, as he leant on the bike rail opposite. “Did you choose here?”

“Yes.”

“Why”

“I liked it.” Which was strange, he knew, when everything about this place was so – “It’s ordinary. I wanted to go somewhere ordinary.” He blinked. “You want to go to university?”

“Why’d you look so shocked?” But Kakeru was grinning. He swung their hands. “Do you not think I’m smart enough?”

Yuki pretended to pause. Tilted his head to one side, because it caught the light like that, and he saw Kakeru glance towards it.

“You don’t act like it,” he said.

“Yun-Yun! Don’t be so mean!”

“Yun-Yun?”

The voice froze him. He’d been sure Ayame had left. But no, he stood, just by the bike shed, smiling.

“Don’t you get any ideas!” he snapped. Let go of Kakeru’s hand as though it was boiling hot. He was sure that he saw Ayame notice.

“Ah, you must be Yuki's brother.” Kakeru stepped forward. Flashed that bright smile, and Yuki couldn’t look. This couldn’t be happening. “I'm Kakeru Manabe, vice president of the school defence squad.”

“He means student council,” Yuki muttered. Scuffed his trainer against the pavement.

“Ayame Sohma - I was president.”

“Wow - just like you.” Kakeru patted Yuki’s shoulder.

He forced himself to look up, because this wasn’t going to go away.

“That's not why I did it,” he said. Glanced at Ayame. “I thought you would have gone home by now.”

“I wanted to say goodbye,” for a moment, there was something almost soft in Ayame’s voice, before he smiled, nodding at Kakeru. “Meeting your lovely friend is just a bonus!”

Friend. That meant –

“Shigure didn’t say anything?” He really hadn’t?

Ayame blinked. “About what?”

“Nothing.” Why didn’t he feel more relieved at that? He swallowed. “It was good to see you. Goodbye.”

“That's it? So cold!” Ayame put a hand over his heart. “Shouldn't we have a meal out?”

Kakeru took Yuki’s arm. “Yes, let's have a meal out.”

No. It was beginning.

“I can only deal with one of you at a time.” He went to untangle himself, but his hand froze.

“And you’d pick me right?” Kakeru asked.

He pretended to hesitate, felt Kakeru grip his arm more tightly, and couldn’t help smirking.

Ayame laughed. Yuki paused.

Realised Ayame knew. He was not as stupid as he pretended to be. He was putting together the phone call and their body language. Had no doubt seen their joined hands. What was stranger to Yuki was that he hadn’t made an attempt to hide it. He could have given Kakeru a warning glance, and that would have been enough.

But he hadn’t wanted to. This was telling. In his own way.

“Well.” There was something softer in Ayame’s voice. “It was good to see you, Yuki. And it’s nice to know that you’ve got a good student council.”

“We’d be nothing without our president.” Kakeru nudged Yuki, with a grin that made heat prickle on the back of his neck.

They said their goodbyes. Then Kakeru leant close to Yuki’s ear and murmured, “go have dinner with your brother.”

“What?” He half-turned, their faces close.

“Go on. As a thank you for saving my ass, and because you need to talk. I can tell. About curse stuff.” Kakeru’s arm pressed their hips together. “Go on, the chariot of my bike can carry you home another day, your highness.”

“You’re unbearable.” But Yuki kissed his cheek as a way of saying goodbye.

“Hey.” Kakeru waited until Yuki was a few steps away before he said. “Bears like honey, right.”

It was a terrible pun, and Yuki glared at him for it, hurrying to catch up to Ayame.

And yet, when he did, he found himself at a loss for words. He fell into step, mumbling something about having a meal after all. Ayame, for once, did not draw attention to this.

But he still smiled and said, “he’s very _nice_.”

Yuki’s stomach squirmed at the way he stressed ‘nice,’ because, yes, Ayame knew. Knew and approved, and both of those things were good in theory, but so awkward in person.

“He is.”

They continued on the path, out of the school, and Yuki was sure Ayame would have taken a taxi, or car, but he didn’t head to one. He continued walking, the wind catching his pale hair.

“I’m happy for you.” There was more to the way he said it. An understanding. An – ‘it’s okay you didn’t tell me,’ and that they didn’t need to discuss that it was a him. Not if Yuki did not want to. “But Yuki, I have to ask - does he know about the curse?”

“Some.” He had to admit it, as foolish as it was. He had to admit it because there was a glimmer of pride that came with that. Kakeru knew about the curse, and he had not gone running. Did not think Yuki was a freak. “Will you tell Akito?”

Ayame paused. Kept his eyes forward, his expression unreadable. “Those are the rules.”

“And you've never broken them?” Yuki asked. “Not even when it got cold? You told Akito every time?”

Ayame slowed. Took a long breath, his voice placating as he said, “Yuki.”

Yuki stopped. Because even the thought was making him start to tremble. “You know what he'll do. How he'll react. If it's - a boy.”

Ayame stopped too. “It will only get worse if you hide it.”

Did he speak from experience? Yuki couldn’t ask that. Asked instead, “Does he care about asking permission or begging forgiveness?”

They both knew it was the latter. And yet, Ayame was right. Nothing good could come of keeping it a secret.

There was a bite of chill in the air, stinging Yuki’s skin, as they regarded each other. He got the impression that Ayame was, for the first time, seeing him as all grown up. 

“You know, they say if you love something, set it free.” Ayame spoke kindly. Was trying to avoid his little brother getting hurt. This time. Perhaps because he had not done so for so long.

Yuki shrugged. He was set on this. “And what do you do if it comes back to you?”

It was presumptuous to think they were that devoted. But Kakeru Manabe was stubborn, and would never let Yuki try to do something so honourable. He smiled at Ayame.

Ayame smiled back.

*

The meal was not as unbearable as it could have been. The subject of the curse was avoided, though it still lingered in the shadows – though it did not stop Ayame from asking about Kakeru. Asking for details and making a fuss of Yuki if he blushed over the details. (And Yuki did blush, especially as Ayame shared his experiences of the student council’s supply cupboards.)

That was the other shadow. The lingering question of how – how could he sit and tease him as though they were normal? As though nothing had happened between them? As though the chasm was not still between them?

Still, he managed small talk. Found out that Ayame’s business was doing well, and of course Tohru was over the moon when he came back. She was so genuinely happy that he’d chosen to spend time with his brother, that she forgot about the curse, and hugged him tightly.

And of course Yuki could not resist teasing that Kyo would also want a hug, since it had been obvious to him – since the Summer Holiday – that he cared about her. It seemed worth being chased underneath the TV cabinet for.

Content. It was the word that sprung to his mind as he walked to school in the following days. Met Kakeru outside and could hug him without feeling awkward – he was sued to hugging people now. He was content with his friends, with spending lunch breaks in the student council room, just the two of them – not even kissing all the time, but just _being_ together.

He’d never realised just how much influence the fan club girls had. Now the other girls seemed more relaxed around him. No one was glancing over their shoulders to see if they were lurking nearby. It was hard to tell, but he was sure that Tohru and Machi were more comfortable at school now. (Because Tohru was always so naturally happy, and Machi so determined to be stoic.) Kimi, at least, seemed disappointed that she was being scolded less.

The last time he had passed by the fan club girl’s room, he had heard, “if this club exists to protect Yuki Sohma, then we cannot stand in the way of him being happy. If he looks happy, then leave him be.

He had smiled. It was sweet, really, that these girls thought they could protect him. What could they begin to do if they knew the truth?

There were still moments. Nights. When he had muddled bad dreams Akito finding out – that he was gay, or that Kakeru knew about the curse. Still times he would lay awake in bed feeling just as muddled as when it had all begun a month or so ago. But it was hard for those emotions to linger when he was content. Content not putting a label on it and content to make the most of this, whilst he could.

It would be foolish to think that it would always stay a secret from Sohma house. But maybe things would change before then. After all, things had already changed so much now.

“You’re sure your mother won’t be home?” Yuki asked.

“Not till late,” Kakeru replied. “For the third time.”

Yuki just elbowed him. They sat on his bed, Kakeru playing some video game. The few times he’d passed the controller over, Yuki had been abysmal at it. It was more enjoyable, for him (since Kakeru had just laughed), to just watch. To lean against Kakeru. He was warm like a sun.

“And she won’t mind that you’ve come over. Or that you’re a boy.”

“Does she know that you’re –”

Kakeru’s button mashing paused long enough for him to take a hit. “She said it’s a faze.”

“Oh.”

“Have you – I mean –” He paused the game. “Do your parents know?”

“I don’t live with them.” Yuki shifted, so that he could toy with the ends of Kakeru’s hair. They looked almost auburn, when they hit the light. “I – live with my cousin.”

“Another one?”

“Big family."

"Are they - _you know_?" Kakeru turned, and raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Mm." Yuki let Kakeru's hair fall through his fingers.

"Do they turn into a rat too?"

"No - that's only me." He paused, still wasn't sure how much he should say. Traced circles on the back of Kakeru's hand, until he took it off the controller and laced their hands together. "It's - there's only twelve Sohmas who have the curse. Twelve zodiac animals."

"And you live with one - and Kyo-Kyo, and Miss Honda?"

"Don't call him that." But Yuki was smiling, because he knew it would set Kyo off shouting. "But yes. And he knows, but he's - bisexual himself, so -"

"Ah. That's lucky."

Because he understood, in a way that only queer people did. But, on the other hand, there was the rest of Shigure to deal with.

"Swings and roundabouts." He shrugged. Leant his head back on Kakeru's shoulder. "But - I don't think I could ever - tell - _her_."

"Then don't." Kakeru rested his head on Yuki's. "Don't. Go to university, stay there, cut her off. That's what I plan to do."

"It's not that simple." The curse. Sohma house. He couldn't get away from it. Couldn't run forever.

"It is."

Yuki started shaking his head, those two words, that same excuse - on his tongue - but Kakeru caught his cheeks. The controller fell to the floor with a thump.

"It is," Kakeru repeated, and all Yuki could see were those deep, honey-coloured eyes. "We'll leave. They can't make us come back. They won't be able to find us. Not if we don't tell them where we're going. We'll stay away from them all. Just us."

The video game was still playing away to itself, the beat of the music lining up with the thump of Yuki's heart. Thumping so heavily it hurt. Kakeru's face was so close, his voice almost thick with how much he meant it. With the image that he was painting.

He didn't think they could disappear so easily. He couldn't cut them all of - not Hatsu Haru and - Tohru. And secrets always found their way out in the Sohma family. It wasn't possible to untangle himself so completely from everything.

But he wanted to. He put his hands over Kakeru's - they were so warm - and he wanted to believe in that. A future where they were free.

Yuki ached for it, and that ache made it hard to be honest, when it was easier to smile, raise an eyebrow and say, "That's assuming I still want to be with you by the time we go to college."

Kakeru smirked. Close enough now for their noses to touch.

"Oh, you will, Yun-Yun. You're madly in love with me."

He was teasing. Mostly. Yet, Yuki didn't know much about love. Didn't know if this - how he felt now, was it.

They kissed, and he couldn't tell if it was him who closed the gap. One kiss turned into two, turned into three, until they merged into each other and all Yuki knew was that he liked the feeling of Kakeru's mouth on his. Liked Kakeru cupping his cheek - reaching an arm around his back to pull him closer. Liked carding his hand through Kakeru's hair, a palm on his chest.

Kakeru sighed, and that seemed an amazing sound. He ghosted his mouth down Yuki’s jaw and it sent sparks through him. He held him tighter – had to – because he felt like he was drifting away.

“I’m still not –” Yuki murmured. “I still don’t know –”

“All you need to do is be yourself,” Kakeru replied. Tucked the long strands of Yuki’s hair behind his ear and kissed where it used to sit. The words sounded familiar. He couldn’t place them. Not when their mouths were pressed against each other’s and that stupid video game music was still playing. The lights still flashing.

He didn’t quite mean to do it. Just – his tongue was in the wrong place and it grazed against Kakeru’s lip. When it did, his mouth opened up, but that was okay – because this felt closer – and closer was good.

They were pressed against each other – completely – arms on backs, trying to hold all of each other at once – trying to press cheeks closer together. Testing which angle was best to kiss – which movement of the lips sent the best sparks flying.

Kakeru shifted, so that his leg rested over Yuki’s. Just a slight overlap. But he was warm, and weighted, bringing him back to reality.

Reality. He was kissing a boy. And that was fine. It was fine if he missed Kakeru’s mouth slightly – fine if he let his lips trail up the line of his jaw, to the hollow, where dark brown hair was against his face.

“You’re doing good, you know,” Kakeru said. “Considering you have stuff to figure out – you’re doing –” He broke off, fingers no doubt making creases in the back of Yuki’s shirt.

Stuff to figure out. He had never explained all of the details, and didn’t know if he ever would be able to. It still brought a deep, hard ball of shame up in him. Probably misplaced shame, but that didn’t make it easier to budge.

“It won’t be anything to do with you, but –” He kept his eyes closed. Against Kakeru’s hair. “I will probably wake up at three in the morning, and feel terrible. It’s – happens –”

“I can understand.” Kakeru’s fingers released. Traced up his back and he curved his spine to feel it. “But you’re doing good.”

Yuki half-laughed, and Kakeru pulled away. Traced his fingers down the side of Yuki’s face, eyes soft.

“You had a panic attack because I asked if you were gay,” he said. Tilted his head so that even when Yuki tried to avoid it, he had to meet his eye. “So, yeah, you’re doing good, honey.”

He was doing good, and he believed it when Kakeru said it. Saw that he’d come a long way, and yet – felt like bursting into tears.

“How are you so –?” His fingers grazed Kakeru’s cheek. He leant into the touch. Just slightly.

“Wonderful? Awesome? Amazing?”

“Ugh, no.” He rolled his eyes – shut Kakeru up by pressing his fingers against his mouth. “A huge dork.”

Kakeru kissed the pads of his fingers. Took them in hand and kissed the back of Yuki’s knuckles until he was smiling. Ducked his chin to try and hide it.

“A huge dork you could have fake broken up with, but didn’t. A huge dork you didn’t have to really date, but you did.”

“Well.” He tried to turn the smile into something more charming, the kind he used to give Tohru to see her blush. Tried to make his voice soft. “The knight won the heart of the fair Prince.”

Kakeru flushed red. Pulled Yuki’s hand so that they were close again.

“That,” he said. “That is how I knew I was bisexual.”

Yuki tried not to laugh. ”What?”

“You.” Kakeru pressed their foreheads together. “The more I saw you – especially like – _that_. I know it’s just a façade, but –”

“It is,” Yuki agreed. Ran his thumb over Kakeru’s fingers. “But – it’s worth putting it on to see you go red.”

“I bet you say that to all the fan club girls.”

As if. He huffed. “You’re infuriating.”

Kakeru kissed him. It was difficult when they were both smiling so widely.

“You can call me, when you – feel guilty,”

“I know, but –”

“It’s complicated?”

“I was thinking of talking to my brother more.”

“Aw.” Kakeru pulled away. Rubbed his thumbs over Yuki’s cheekbones. “You’ve grown up so fast.”

“I will dump you.”

“No.” Kakeru kissed Yuki’s nose. “You won’t.”

And he was probably right. He kissed him so that he did not have to admit that. Kept kissing him. Relished sliding his arms around Kakeru’s neck – Kakeru’s hands on his sides – on his hips – easing him onto his lap.

He obliged. Awkward and embarrassed for a moment, but it was hard to keep feeling like that when Kakeru’s mouth was against his.

“And you can –” Yuki pressed his mouth against Kakeru’s jaw as he tried to remember what he wanted to say. “Call, if you need to talk about magic.”

“Oh?” Kakeru tilted his chin back to accommodate him. Rubbed his thumbs reassuringly against Yuki’s sides. Comfortable – this was so comfortable. “You’ll answer all of my questions.”

He paused. Mouth over Kakeru’s neck, and felt him freeze at the feeling of breath there. “What I can.”

“Great.” Kakeru chuckled. Pressed his lips to Yuki’s temple, as though he couldn’t stay away – but Yuki understood the feeling. This kind of touch felt intoxicating, as though he couldn’t help it. “I’ll call you to talk about our run-away plan.”

“We can’t do that.” Yuki looked at him. Brushed dark hair from Kakeru’s eyes.

Kakeru smiled at him. As though he really was a Prince. “But you want to.”

His cheeks were so warm already, that he couldn’t tell if they got pinker. “That’s not the point.”

It was, though. Kakeru’s smile turned to a smirk, as he leant in to kiss Yuki again. He wanted that too – but there was one more thing – a thing that made him press a finger to Kakeru’s lips to make him pause – that he had to say.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Kakeru still grinned, as Yuki put his hand back on his shoulder.

“For – saying that we were dating.”

For setting Yuki Sohma free, when he didn’t even know he was a prisoner.

“Honey.” Kakeru kissed him, as gently as the first time. “It’s was a pleasure.”

They got lost again, because it felt way too easy to – better, by far, than watching Kakeru play video games Yuki didn’t care about.

The front door slammed shut.

Yuki trusted when Kakeru said it would be fine. But he suspected it would be significantly less fine if his mother found them – like _this_. Had been so worked up all afternoon about that the thought of Kakeru’s mother coming home when he was sat on Kakeru’s lap – kissing Kakeru –

He transformed. Struggled out of his clothes, and let Kakeru cup him with his hands. Bit his little finger when he called Yuki cute.

So he still had things to figure out.

But the important thing was that he was getting there.

And he had a good boyfriend to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Sorry this chapter is a little late! After like 6 months of nothing happening, everything started happening at once. I literally only needed to finish off the last scene on Thursday, but didn't get a chance till today lol  
> I feel like I've reached all the emotional beats that I wanted to with this fic, though the last scene did make me want to write more purely fluffy make-outs. Maybe in the future...  
> Thank you so so so much for all of the support on this fic!! I really didn't expect it and its been an absolute pleasure to see people enjoying it!! Thank you so much for keeping up and leaving comments/kudos/bookmarks - it means the world to me and is what keeps me writing! If I didn't reply, it's because I can only say thank you!! <3 <3  
> I always enjoy writing Fruits Basket characters and Yuki is my fave so this was really fun to write. Maybe see you soon <3 xxxx
> 
> (P.S I'm doing nanowrimo this year: https://nanowrimo.org/participants/turnups/projects/untitled-oliver-twist-project)

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N): I wrote this fic intending to have a backlog of chapters, which I do, but I've completely lost confidence in my writing in the last few days. I'm going to tentatively post this and see what happens. (Got to get that validation, you know?)  
> Anyway, manga readers might now a few things the anime hasn't got to but like - trust me, those things will come up.  
> Thanks so much for reading, please do leave any thoughts - I'd really appreciate them.  
> For the time being, I'm going to update weekly.


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